DON'T Call Me Roxanne
by Moonstar00125
Summary: A Total Reversal of Megamind and Roxanne's situation-what would happen if Earth was the dying planet and Roxanne the only survivor? Would her and Megs still fall in love? How would things change? Let's find out!
1. Your Destiny Is Our Legacy

"Here is your kitten," Relda Ritchi said, setting a tiny ginger kitten in her daughter's pod.  
>"And here is your teddy bear," Richard Ritchi added, handing the young girl her fluffy bear. "Never forget, Roxanne," he said, tucking a note into a pouch behind her, "Your destiny is our legacy. We love you." With that, the baby girl's pod sealed shut, and she was jettisoned off of a dying Earth in time to watch as her home planet was sucked into the giant, gaping black hole that their once beautiful sun had become.<br>Roxanne would be the only survivor.


	2. Meeting Mace Mind

Roxanne lowered her bright blue gaze as she walked through the halls, staring down at her books as she listened to the other kids. They were whispering, always, always whispering, about her, about where she had come from, sometimes even about her family. They were always mean things, nasty things, but at least the whispering was better than their open comments, when they yelled insults at her and flaunted their normality in her face. Sometimes they even threw things.  
>Roxanne wasn't a normal girl. Her skin was the color of the fruit of the bungdo tree, her lips were bright red, and her head was small. Even stranger, she had hair, like some sort of animal. It disgusted the others. Everyone knew that women shouldn't have hair! Only men had hair, and only facial hair, if they didn't shave. Roxanne though...She had hair on her <em>head<em>! How freaky was _that_!  
>And it wasn't just her head, either. It was on her arms, and her legs, and armpits, and once in the locker room, Deldja <em>swore<em> that she had seen hair covering her _reproductive area_. It was sickening, really, and frightening.  
>The only thing that was really <em>normal<em> about Roxanne was that she was physically the same as anyone else, and her eyes were a beautiful shade of bright blue-blue was a normal color, thank God, though there were a few nasty children who spread rumors about her taking pills to mask the fact that her eyes were actually red.  
>Roxanne shaved every night to try and rid herself of the hair, and it helped, but her mother refused to let her shave her head (she said the hair "added to her beauty"), and the occasional scabs that appeared on her arms and legs from mishaps while shaving gave some people reasons to spread rumors around that she cut herself (how barbaric!).<br>Roxanne was also a rather stupid child. Oh, she wasn't un-teachable or anything, and she learned well enough for having such a rather _small_ head, but it sometimes took her as many as three repetitions of a lesson for her to grasp it completely. That was why she was a B (and sometimes C) student.  
>She was the omega of the school, of the entire society, really, and she was well aware of the fact. Even her clothes were different. She was one of the few children in school who wore clothes that weren't totally white, and while for the other kids it was a privilege and honor, a symbol of high rank, for Roxanne it was just another thing that made her different.<br>The silent whisperings of the hall were suddenly broken as someone called out, "Freak!" Everyone started laughing, and Roxanne picked up speed, wanting to get out of the halls as fast as possible. "Bungdo-skin!" "Small in the brain much?" "Oh, look, someone let the beast out of her cage again!" "Don't we have leash laws around here?" "Where's your minion-you didn't eat her, did you?" "Hey ugly, I heard you tried to kill yourself again! Too bad you failed!" "Oh my, you might want to get a higher prescription, Aida, the red is showing in your eyes!" A cup flew through the air and hit Roxanne in the back of the head. Then a spoon. And then the books started flying, knocking her to the floor as books of all sizes, colors, and shapes were thrown at the school freak.  
>Roxanne bent her head as she lay on the floor, arms going up to protect her head as the tears began to flow. She didn't want them to see her cry, but she couldn't help it. She was only Cerulean-or, at least, on the inside she was. On the outside she was <em>human<em>.  
>"What is <em>wrong<em> with you!" A voice cut through the laughter and taunting, and everyone was suddenly silent. Roxanne listened as boot steps clacked toward her through the pristine halls. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!" His voice cried out, and Roxanne sensed someone beside her as a young man kneeled down at her side. Strong, nimble hands gripped her gently, and her eyes blinked open as he helped her up. She couldn't believe her eyes.  
>Mace Mind was helping her to her feet, looking shocked and disgusted as he did so. But not at her. At everyone else.<br>"There is absolutely nothing wrong with Aida being who she is!" he shouted at all of them, and some of the kids around her were lowering their heads in shame. "She can't help how she looks, no one can! Just because she's the last living remnant of her species is no reason to tease her, and to throw things at her-" He glared around at them all as Roxanne gained her feet. "It's times like these that I am loathe to call myself Cerulean! Are you alright?" he asked, turning to look at Roxanne. Dazed, Roxanne could only nod, and Mace continued to glare as he scooped up her books, took her by the arm, and walked her down the hall to her class. "I'm sorry," he apologized, glancing behind him at the crowded halls. "I can't believe they would do that! I wish you well," he added a little curtly, catching sight of the time and pressing his forehead briefly against hers. "It was pleasant to meet you, Aida."  
>Roxanne watched as Mace turned and disappeared down the hall, disappearing in a flurry of black as he caught up to his minion. Mace Mind had just talked to her. More than that, he had <em>saved<em> her! He had come to her rescue!  
>Roxanne stumbled to her seat and sat down hard, overcome with disbelief. Mace Mind was the most popular kid in school, and the smartest. He had personally developed the official bodysuit for minions, a robotic lendor suit (lendors being large, hairy creatures that looked a little like Ceruleans (the creatures from which they originally evolved) but actually bore a closer resemblance to Roxanne. That was another nickname. Aida, daughter of a lendor), had revolutionized transportation by figuring out the technology for flying bikes, worked out all of the bugs in jet-pack travel, and even created a new kind of minion using robotic technology, ones that flew and resembled a cross between a chiff and a worngall, which he called brainbots-and that was just by the time he was eight!<br>More than that, Mace came from one of the most prestigious families on the planet, famous scientists all of them-Mr. Macklnn Mind had actually been the scientist to examine her when she first came to the planet and set her up with an almost-as-prestigious adoptive family. He always wore black, and honestly it was a wonderful color on him.  
>Mace Mind. The most handsome, dashing, intelligent, wonderful, kind, popular kid for miles and miles and miles, and possibly the entire planet, <em>Mace Mind<em> had just helped her. She couldn't believe it! She covered her face with a hand as she blushed and looked down. She'd never admit it to anyone but maybe Gilda and Quicksilver, but she had had a _huge_ crush on Mace Mind for the past four years. Not that he would ever speak to her again.  
>After all, who wanted a freak?<p> 


	3. I'm Not Going To Steal It

"Gilda?" Roxanne called as she stepped through the door to the room she shared with her minion.  
>"I'm here, Mistress!" Gilda called out, before erupting in a huge sneeze. Roxanne's face creased in worry.<br>"I told you you shouldn't be spending time with Gishnar!" Roxanne told her, sitting down on her bed next to Gilda's sleeping tank. She was sick today, having contracted the 24-hour minion-flu from Gishnar, the minion of Roxanne's adoptive brother, Reptung.  
>"I know!" Gilda moaned. "I'm a terrible minion! I should have listened to you, and I should have been their with you at school today!"<br>"You're sick," Roxanne reminded her. "You need to rest, which is exactly why our Mothers moved your suit into the kitchen for the day!"  
>"I suppose that's true," Gilda said. The minion looked every bit as sick as she professed to be. Her usually shiny green flesh was dull and grayish, and her golden-brown eyes were reddish with exhaustion and sickness. She'd be better by morning, but it was unusual for anyone to go to school without their minion-another thing to make Roxanne different. She didn't <em>like<em> going out without Gilda, but at times she had to, like today, since she had had a test in Cerulean history and didn't want to miss it. She had been studying for it for weeks, and was fairly certain that she had aced it. At the very least it would be a solid B plus.  
>"How was school?" Gilda asked, swimming to the edge of her tank and resting on the floor of it as Quicksilver darted into the room and curled her furry body around Roxanne's leg. These two were Roxanne's only friends in the whole world, her minion and her kitten, Quicksilver, named for liquid mercury. Quicksilver was a bright orange, full-grown kitten with white paws and yellow eyes, the only living thing Roxanne had brought with her from Earth.<br>"I'm not sure," Roxanne admitted, stroking Quicksilver's fur as the kitten leaped into her lap and began to purr. "It was the same as always. I got attacked in the halls before first period, I got called names throughout the day, I got laughed out of Math class again, Professor Jeckdal sent me to The Overlord for provoking my classmates after I tried to tell Deldja to leave me alone."  
>"It sounds like it can be classified as a bad day, Mistress," Gilda said. Roxanne looked up.<br>"Well, it wasn't all bad," she admitted shyly. "Someone actually helped me today."  
>"Really?" Gilda ask, tilting her body slightly in surprise. She was the only one who helped her Mistress (besides her parents, but that didn't really count)! Not even Reptung would so much as talk to Roxanne outside of the house, and he denied any and all connections to her, going so far as to claim that his parents were completely different people with the same name as her parents. "Who?"<br>"Mace Mind," Roxanne said, blushing and looking back to Quicksilver, and Gilda's eyes widened. "He told everyone to leave me alone and helped me up. He even walked me to class."  
>"He did?" Gilda asked, unable to come up with any real response. This was big! No-not just big, <em>huge<em>! No one had ever been so much as kind to her Mistress, and to hear that the most intelligent, well-liked, and aesthetically pleasing male in her age group (not to mention the only male Roxanne had ever expressed attraction for) had stood up for her... "Mistress," Gilda said, "I don't mean to be rude, but are you sure you weren't having a lapse of reality?"  
>"I'm certain," Roxanne said, eyes flashing upward, her voice suddenly hard and curt. She had a tendency to do that. Inside the shy, down-trodden freak, Roxanne Cerebellum was a sharp, quick-witted young woman who was notoriously intrepid. The Inspector had said as much when he had come to asses her for her future occupation, and had informed her and her family that if she chose to work, her best options would be as a writer or journalist of some sort. She could choose whatever path she wanted, but because The Inspector had decided on that path for her, she had the greatest chance of getting a well-paying job in those or affiliated fields.<br>"If you say so, Mistress," Gilda said, lowering her body slightly. "Maybe we should get started on your homework?"  
>"<em>I'll<em> get started on my homework," Roxanne told her firmly. "You need to rest." With that Roxanne slid the backpack from her shoulders, Quicksilver leaping to the floor as her owner dumped the contents out onto her bed. She spread the materials out. Today she had assignments in History, Biology, and Math, and she'd need-_wait a moment._ A flash of silver caught her eye.  
>"What's this?" she thought aloud, reaching out and picking the item up as Gilda floated up to get a better view. It looked like an ordinary watch. It had the digital time in a box in the center, right down to the millisecond, black, lightning-shaped hands pointed to the same time in the background, a section at the top of the watch face proclaimed the date, weather, and phase of both the planet's moons, and it had knobs and dials on the sides for changing the settings and using the stop-watch feature. It was nothing special, really. But there seemed to be two extra buttons to either side of the watch face, and touching the watch, the face started to turn. It could rotate.<br>"It looks like a watch, Mistress," Gilda said, looking to her master. "Where did it come from?"  
>"It was in my Biology papers," Roxanne said. "It must have fallen off of Mace's wrist when he picked up my books..."<br>"You should give it back to him, Mistress," Gilda advised.  
>"I will," Roxanne said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to steal it. I'll give it back tomorrow, if I see him in the halls."<br>"Good," Gilda said, sinking back to the bottom of her tank. "I think I'll get some sleep now, if that's alright, Mistress."  
>"That's fine, Gilda," Roxanne answered. "In fact, I order you to get some sleep. I have-"<br>"Roxanne!" Roxanne flinched. "Could come down here darling?"  
>"I'll be back," Roxanne promised, then stood and headed downstairs to see what her mother wanted. Why couldn't she call her by her <em>normal<em> name?


	4. Code: Dad is Blind Again

"Minion!" Mace Mind called over his shoulder, currently in the process of trashing his room. "Have you seen my watch?"  
>"Yes," Minion answered, stepping into his room and giving a mental sigh at the mess his master had caused. "It's right there, on the desk."<br>"No, not _that_ watch, Minion," Mace said, shaking his head. "It had black hands shaped like lightning bolts-"  
>"I'm afraid I haven't seen it Sir," Minion said. "But you have others, and it won't be hard to secure another of the same-"<br>"No, Minion, you don't understand," Mace said, shaking his head. "This watch is very special! I was working on a disguise generator, and that watch was it! It has over twenty disguises uploaded into it, and can scan new ones in, and it was almost finished and-"  
>"Sir, I'm sure it can't be too far," Minion said, setting a hand on Mace's shoulder. "I'll bet it came off while you were working in the lab earlier. Why don't you go ask Father about it while I tidy up?"<br>"Good idea, Minion!" Mace exclaimed with a grin, giving Minion a friendly punch on the shoulder. "I don't know what I'd do without you!" Minion watched as Mace leaped up and dashed out of the room, hitting his head on the doorframe before going out the actual door, then looked back around at the room and shook his "head." Time to get cleaning.

"Dad!" Mace called, running down the steps to the lab he shared with his father. "Have you seen-"  
>"Mace!" Macklnn Mind cried, turning to smile at his son with warm orange eyes. "You're just in time! I need your help!"<br>"What with?" Mace asked, walking down to join his father, grabbing a lab coat as he passed the coat rack and throwing it on over his day clothes.  
>"I need you to look through this microscope and tell me what you see," Mr. Mind said, setting a hand on his son's shoulder.<br>"Why?" Mace asked, leaning over to peer into it. "Can't you tell what it is?"  
>"I accidentally blinded myself again," he admitted, and Mace drew back to give his father a look.<br>"How?"  
>"Let's just say explosions, chemicals, and bare eyes don't mix, son," Macklnn said, shaking his large head. "Always wear your goggles, Mace."<br>"How long will it last?"  
>"It should only last about eight hours," Macklnn brushed it off. "Just please don't tell your Mother. She'll have an absolute fit." Mace grinned.<br>"I won't mention anything," he promised. "But if she figures it out on her own, I'm not going to lie to her."  
>"I expected as much," Macklnn grumbled, then nodded toward the microscope. "What do you see?"<br>"I see a cluster of discolored Cerulean cells," Mace told his father. "They seem to be fighting off a pox. Why?"  
>"Are they succeeding?"<br>"Yes. Why does it matter?"  
>"Wonderful!" Macklnn exclaimed. "That means that human and Cerulean viruses are remarkably similar! Overlord Cadrid will be very pleased, as will the Cerebellums..."<br>"Are you working with that human girl's DNA again, Dad?" Mace asked, turning to look his currently blind father in the eye. His father and mother were both double-fielded. His father was a geneticist and a physicist, his mother a physicist and an ambassador who made frequent visits to their neighboring planet, Crypt. It had been years since he'd stopped work on the human girl's DNA, partially because he could only do so much with the very miniscule amount of DNA he'd managed to collect from her.  
>"It's only a small experiment," Macklnn said, feeling around for his pad of paper and pen. He was blinded often enough that he didn't need too much help getting around the lab. He had a bad habit of not putting on his goggles. "I had a sudden thought when I was getting ready to send one of the brainbots off to the scientific community to deliver a few papers, and wanted to test to see if, in the event of a pox epidemic, she would be impervious. It's amazing how similar that child is to our kind!"<br>"If you're so interested in her, why don't you request more samples?" Mace asked.  
>"Mace, I'm a scientist," Macklnn snorted, "<em>not<em> a specialist on torture."  
>"You wouldn't have to torture it," Mace argued. "You could just ask for a small sample, maybe some spit, or a used band-aid, or-"<br>"_Her_, Mace," Macklnn corrected his son. "I wouldn't have to torture _her_. And it doesn't matter how I went about it, if I decided it was alright for me to view her as anything besides a complete equal, the rest of the world would decide they could do the same, and a slide of saliva would turn into a vial of blood, which would turn into a bucket of bone marrow, and before we knew it, that girl would be a series of experiments scattered across the world. Anyway, what did you come down here for?"  
>"I was <em>going<em> to ask if you had seen the watch I've been tinkering with for the last month, but I'm going to assume that would be a question better suited for Mom."  
>"Ha, ha," Macklnn said, rolling his eyes. "Very funny, Mace."<br>"I'll send Fid down to help," he promised, still grinning, as he touched his forehead to his father's in farewell. "Where is he, anyway?"  
>"Fid went off with Idna a few hours ago," Macklnn said, shaking his head and waving his son away. "I swear those two are like hormonal teenagers. Mark my words, we'll have thirty more minions to train before too long."<br>"Well, I'll be sure to tell Minion," Mace called, heading back up the stairs. "He'll be ecstatic to learn about having more siblings to play with!" Macklnn smiled and stroked his goatee, peering into blackness as he scribbled sloppily on his note pad.

"Mom," Mace said, peering into his mother's lab, which was on the lower level of their home and across the house from his father's lab. Mace and Macklnn Mind had a much higher rate of explosion than Mendje, and she was very adamant that she'd rather not have them blowing up both labs at once-that was also their reasoning for having Mace share his father's lab. If they blew the place up, only half of the house would suffer. "Have you seen my watch?"  
>"No," Mendje answered, looking up from her work, taking off her glasses to better view her son. "Have you asked your father?"<br>"I have," Mace answered with a nod. "But he hadn't seen-"  
>"He's blind again, isn't he?"<br>"Yes," Mace answered with a sigh, and Mendje smirked.  
>"Which chemicals?"<br>"He didn't say."  
>"Were there explosives involved?"<br>"Yes."  
>"Was he wearing his goggles?"<br>"Nope."  
>"Is he down there alone?"<br>"Yes, yes he is."  
>"Get Idna and Fid," Mendje ordered, setting her glasses aside and shaking her head. "I'll get the restraints. You should probably bring Minion along as well."<br>"This should be fun," Mace laughed as his mother pushed past him.  
>"Don't laugh at your father's expense," Mendje Mind lectured, pausing in her stride, then smiled anyway. "But yes, it should be." Temporarily forgetting about his watch, Mace raced up the stairs to find the Mind minions.<br>"Minion, Fid, Idna!" he cried. "Code: Dad is blind and we need to get the coat hangers!"


	5. What Makes A Minion

"Mom?" Roxanne asked, stepping into the kitchen and looking up at her adoptive mother, who was helping Civ with the cooking. Civ was her mother's minion, who was a pale pink with the signature golden-brown eyes of a minion. The golden-brown color of the eyes was the deciding factor for which offspring were chosen to be trained as minions for future generations, and which were raised to adulthood and set free in the oceans of Cerul. It had been a promise made to the piranha people of Cerul long ago, when first contact was made with the king of the ocean-dwelling fish, who promised, as a gift of peace, all those with eyes of a golden-brown shade as servants to the Ceruleans, so long as all those with different eye colors be set free-the basis of the decision being that none of the royal family had eyes of that particular shade, and were safe from being chosen.

The majority of minions actually enjoyed their roles very much, with only a very small few who did not. It was considered a high honor to be a minion so thoughtful and perfectly matched to their master that their master needn't hire any Cerulean help for their home, and in the Cerebellum home, each of their four minions carried their own personal "badge" of honor in that respect.

At birth, a fish with the prospects of becoming a minion would either be taught by their own parents or sent to a school for minions. Through a medical and highly scientific procedure, the minion would be linked to a Cerulean child still in the womb who had only three months left until their birth, and be trained as a minion to care for that child and take care of them. After the child was born, their initial training would end, and more advanced training would begin, training which would go in depth and take up the majority of a minions life for the next two years.

It was a special bond that developed between a minion and their master, a bond that connected them even deeper than the link they were forced to share from birth. Any child who was raised correctly knew not to toss their minion around like dirt, but to respect them and take their view of things into consideration. Those who didn't often ended up overworking their minion, taking advantage of them and dying at a young age.

The balance between the minion and master was very delicate-in general, minions were seen as less than a Cerulean, though there were those who were seen as a near equal by their master or mistress. It was important for a Cerulean to protect their minion should the need arise, and keep them close. Because of the bonds that help master and minion, if the minion died, so too would the Cerulean to whom they were attached. Should the Cerulean die first, the minion would live on, though any minion worth noting would insist on being buried with their Cerulean, to keep them well in the afterlife, unless they left behind a mate and offspring with preconceived orders to take care of the master's family upon their death.

But to under work or pamper a minion was just as hazardous as to overwork them. When a minion was held in higher regard than their master, or a complete equal who did only as much as or less than their master, the minion was likely to die of depression, lack of stimulation, and muscular atrophy, dragging their liberal-minded "equal" with them to the grave.

Roxanne and Gilda were a special case. The two were bonded, but not as a normal Cerulean child was bonded with their minion. Roxanne had already been a year and a half old when she was sent to Cerul, and Gilda was born only shortly after to a family across the planet. She and Roxanne had been bonded before she began training, and the early years that followed had been awkward for Gilda, learning to care for a Cerulean when she was actually to care for a human. It was a very fortunate thing that earthlings and Ceruleans were not so very different, and that Isst Cerebellum was not above helping the slightly confused minion out when she needed it.

The bond they held was as strong as a normal Cerulean's in the sense that they were extremely close, and Gilda's instincts to care for Roxanne may even have been stronger than normal minions just because it had taken her so much more effort than usual to figure her mistress out. One thing that was greatly altered (neither knew, though they sometimes wondered about it) from normality was that their bond did not carry into the afterlife. If Gilda died, Roxanne would live on.

Isst glanced up and smiled brightly at her daughter. She had very smooth, motherly features, and she acted every bit the part her appearance had cast for her. She was a bubbly woman with a bright outlook and optimism galore. She practically oozed tender love, care, and maternal instinct stronger than Roxanne had seen in the parent of any other. Roxanne and Reptung, her adopted son and daughter, were the pride and joy of her life.

Roxanne, and Reptung had both been adopted by Isst and Loral Cerebellum when they were babies. As motherly as she was, Isst had been barren from birth, and adoption had been her only option for children. Gilda and Gishnar had also been adopted, for both the sake of timing, and because Civ and Rit, the minion of Loral, absolutely idespised/i one another.

When Ceruleans mated, it was law and custom that their minions become mates as well. Usually, the minions of a couple got along quite well, at the very least well enough to be amiable with one another, and sometimes shared a love just as strong as the love their master and mistress harbored for one another. Sometimes, though, there were cases where two forcedly bonded minions hated each other to a point of abhorrence, usually due to clashing personalities with both the other fish and their master.

"Roxanne!" she exclaimed, swooping over to envelop her fifteen-year-old daughter in a warm hug.

"Mom, why can't you just call me Aida, like everyone else?"

"Because your name isn't Aida," Isst told her, pulling back a bit to look her daughter in the eyes. Isst was a good foot taller than her daughter, extremely tall-she towered over everyone but her husband, who, by some amazing mutation, was an impossible six foot eight-_eight!_ Roxanne herself was of a completely average height for a full grown woman at five four, and even the tallest of men didn't usually clear five foot ten. "Your real mother named you Roxanne before she sent you here, and it's a beautiful name that you should be proud of!"

"Roxanne isn't even a name, it's just a collection of weird, random sounds!"

"From what we know it means 'bright star at dawn,' and that is what you are, Roxanne," Isst lectured her daughter. "You should be proud of where you come from and what you are." Roxanne repressed an urge to snort. "Anyway," Isst continued gently, "your father is coming home today, so I'll need your help in the kitchen for awhile. Is that alright?"

"That's fine," Roxanne answered. She didn't really mind cooking. She didn't like it as much as Gilda (Gilda absolutely _adored_ the kitchen, and could spend hours trying out new recipes when she was allowed), but it could be fun.

"So how was school today, sweetheart?" Isst asked as Roxanne situated herself and began slicing vegetables.

"School was alright," she answered. Isst blinked hard and nearly choked on her own tongue as she started forward, the knife she held cutting deep into the bone of the animal she was preparing. There was the loud _ding!_ of metal hitting metal as Civ turned even her attention to Roxanne, the knife coming down on her robotic fingers with strength enough to sever the fingers of a carbon-based life form.

"Alright?" Isst asked, holding a hand to her throat and glancing with wide yellow eyes at her adoptive daughter. "School-school was _alright?_" Roxanne nodded, not even noticing that anyone had looked up as she continued to slice. "And-you aren't lying?"

"Why would I lie?" Roxanne asked. Her very existence on this planet was lie enough to last lifetimes.

"Oh, Roxanne, I'm so happy for you!" Isst cried, grabbing her daughter up and burying her in another bone-crushing hug, nearly getting her eyes gouged out as Roxanne jerked up in surprise. "Tell me all about it!" she insisted, holding Roxanne at arms length and smiling down at her. "I want to hear every _single_ detail of your wonderfully alright day!"

**Author Comments: OK! I just realized that I've been neglecting these author comment bits for this story, so lemme give you the ones from dA!**

**Chapter One: **_**OK, OK, I know I've been starting a lot of fanfics lately and not finishing them, but I PROMISE that I will finish them all before summer's end! *Tear* I just have SO many plotbunnies! *Sob* Anyway, this is the first chapter of a Total Reversal Megamind fic. I think this is the first of its kind, but correct me if I'm wrong. This is the story of Roxanne Ritchi, a human girl who was blasted off of planet Earth as it was sucked into the gaping maw of a black hole, sent to live on a planet millions of light years away, a planet where the average Joe is big-headed, bald, and blue-skinned. What will happen to our beloved Roxanne Ritchi? Let us find out...**_

**Chapter Two: **_**Here are some Cerulean words and their English equivalents!  
>Lendor=Gorilla<br>Chiff: Dog  
>Worngall=Octopus or squid<br>Bungdo tree: Peach tree**_

SO! Chapter two. =P Aw, poor Roxanne. In case you didn't guess, Mace Mind is known in most fanfics as Syx, Blue, Megs, or, most commonly, Megamind. And Roxanne's alien name is Aida. Note: I make up all of this stuff as I go, for the most part. Names and Cerulean words are random sounds put together. XDXD

Cerulean is a shade of blue that is extremely similar to Megamind's skin color. Also I couldn't think of anything else. Sue me. =P XDXD, No, don't really, I'm broke. =P

**Chapter Three: **_**So...HUZZAH! XDXD, Oh, Roxanne has a watch that Mace made, hm? What'll happen from here on out? And they refer to Quicksilver as a "full-grown kitten" because they don't know that a baby kitten is a redundancy. Kitten is the only classification they have for her. So. Yeah. ! =P**_

**Chapter Four: **_**XDXD, so here we peer into the life of one Mace Mind! To clarify: There are two Overlords in this fic, The Overlord of the school and The Overlord of the planet. So. Yeah. XDXD, SO! Fid=Macklnn Mind's minion, Idna=the minion of Menje Mind, and, of course, Minion=the minion of Mace Mind, who we all know and love. And of course, Mace's family is completely and totally awesome. :D XDXD, his parents are so much like him!**_

**Chapter Five: **_**So, did your brain explode? XDXD, Sorry, I'm kinda pushing this huge mass of information on you all right now, but, you know, you need to know a few fundamentals about minions and such! =P  
>XDXD, I like Isst. <strong>__**She's a nice person. =P Very excited about important events in her children's' lives. Yes, this is the first time Roxanne has ever had an "alright" day at school and not been lying about it. =P *Nods*  
>Also, someone on who called themselves thecatwhisperer told me that it was getting hard to keep track of the names, so here's a handy-dandy name-chart thingy! :D<br>**_**  
>The Minds:<br>Mace Mind: AKA, Megamind  
>Minion: The minion of Mace Mind<strong>

Macklnn Mind: The Father of Mace Mind; A physicist and geneticist; Husband to Mendje Mind.  
>Fid: The minion of Macklnn Mind; Father of Minion; Mate of Idna.<p>

Mendje Mind: The Mother of Mace Mind; A physicist and ambassedor; Wife of Macklnn Mind.  
>Idna: The minion of Mendje Mind; Mother of Minion; Mate of Fid.<p>

The Cerebellums:  
>Roxanne "Aida" Cerebellum: AKA, Roxanne Ritchi.<br>Gilda: Minion to Roxanne.

Reptung Cerebellum: Adopted son of Loral and Isst; Adopted brother of Roxanne.  
>Gishnar: Minion to Reptung.<p>

Isst Cerebellum: Adoptive Mother of Roxanne and Reptung; Wife of Loral.  
>Civ: Minion to Isst; Forced mate to Rit.<p>

Loral Cerebellum: Adoptive father of Roxanne and Reptung; Husband of Isst; Royal Advisor on Foreign Affairs.  
>Rit: Minion to Loral; Forced mate to Civ.<p>

_**And that's really all the characters you need to know right here and now! =P Hope this helps, thecatwhisperer! :D Enjoy! :D**_


	6. It Could Have Been Worse

"Ugh!" Mace grunted, tossing himself down on his sterile white bed with the crook of his elbow thrown over his eyes, the colored covers yet to be put back on. He had just finished tearing his room apart for the third or fourth time, and he still had yet to find his watch. No one else had seen it, either. "Where could it ipossibly/i be!"

"Well, Sir," Minion said, "why don't we try retracing your steps? Where did you last see it?"

"I remember putting it on this morning before sh—School," he corrected, grimacing at the slip-up before going on. "Then I remember seeing it just before History…I must have lost it while I was helping Aida!" he exclaimed, sitting straight up, his emotive face battling between showing extreme relief or outward concern.

"The human girl, Sir?" Minion asked, knowing full well who it was.

"Yes, that's it," Mace said with a nod, stroking his line of chin hair. His facial hair had begun growing in a year ago, and he had more recently decided to grow a small, straight goatee down his chin. It was growing in nicely, and it was convenient, seeing as he often found himself needing a place for his hands to go when he wasn't in a place where he could make wild hand gestures like he was used to. "It must have fallen off when I picked up her books. I hope she still has it, but I also hope she doesn't know what it can be used for. The consequences could be disastrous. I have a great many people scanned into that watch, from Father to myself to school officials—Classmates, too."

"I'm sure Miss Cerebellum would be happy to return it, Sir. She doesn't live too far from here; we could go over in the morning to ask for it back."

"Wonderful, Minion!" Mace exclaimed, beaming. "And while we're at it, why waste sending a brainbot over when we could just take Father's message along with us? Dad!" he called, launching himself out of his bed and rushing from the room. He barely managed to keep from going head-first over the banister, and took the steps downstairs three at a time. "Dad! Don't send Pinky just yet! I can—Mom, where's Dad?"

Minion rolled his eyes and turned back to the room, which was, once again, a mess. He sighed, but, as any good minion, he secretly enjoyed the work, even if it was a bit tedious. "Sixth times the charm," he said, manipulating his robotic arms as if to roll up nonexistent sleeves before setting himself to the task of cleaning his Master's room.

"Loral!" Isst cried, and the man dropped his suitcase as he was practically attacked by his wife with only one foot in the door. He then laughed and wrapped his arms (or at least, his forearms) around his wife.

"What's this all about?" he asked, orange eyes twinkling. Much like his wife looked the part of a Mother, Loral looked the part of a Father. He was tall, his build was long, thin, and compact, with hidden muscles beneath; it was the ideal shape of a man on Cerul. His eyes were bright orange, his long nose that had once been straight slightly crooked from an occasion or two in which it had been broken, his face was angular, his head just a little larger than average.

Like most men, Loral wore facial hair—a small, brownish-black Dali mustache, and around his neck hung a pair of dark-framed, ultra-thin reading glasses.

He wore a white coat that covered his work clothes; a mostly white jumpsuit with the family crest across the front and back. Every family had a crest, and when it came to government positions or special conferences, it was a requirement that the crest be worn to identify not only you, but the line from which you hailed. The Cerebellum crest was a flowing blue river, with a single drop of red at the center, signifying the heartbeat of Cerul.

"Roxanne had a wonderful day at school today!" Isst exclaimed, pulling back to smile up at her mate. Civ watched from a distance with a displeased and almost disgusted look on her face. Rit, who stood just outside the door behind Loral, glared back at her, practically idaring/i her to say something.

"That's great news!" he said, slightly clueless as to how this would make his wife so happy as to nearly bowl him over at the door. He loved his wife and his children, but even men of the highest rank held a certain degree of ignorance as far as their families went. Isst was not unaware of this, and she quickly explained to her husband what Roxanne had told her, and after a quick reminder that throwing books at her was the norm, Loral was quite nearly as happy as his wife about his daughter finally having someone stand up for her.

Bullying was not something teachers let slip by at the school—Usually the School Overlord dealt with incidents promptly and severely enough to make sure there would not be a repeat offense, and since Roxanne often came home with bruises and dried streaks of tears from her encounters, it was many a time that the Cerebellums had shown up to defend their daughter's right to be free from harassment. But after several years of the same message being driven into their heads, Loral and Isst could only send Roxanne off to school each day, on edge, hoping that she might return home unscathed. The message driven into them was simple, but it was hard to take; the school couldn't punish every single student who harassed Roxanne because too many did so. They would never be able to discipline all the students at once, or even within a week's time.

The most the school could do was assure them that the staff would cause Roxanne no physical, mental, or emotional harm, and since home schooling had been done away with completely several hundred years ago, it was not an option. Public education was mandatory, and necessary for any youth to function properly in Cerulean society.

It wasn't too much longer before Reptung and Roxanne came rushing down the stairs to greet their father with hugs and kisses and "welcome home!"s.

Reptung was two years older than Roxanne, but only in the class above hers, and he actually looked younger. He was far from done growing (at least, he ihoped/i that he was far from done growing) and stood at only five foot four and one half inches. His eyes were slate grey, and his face was…Well…Average was the kindest way to describe it. Plain would have been accurate as well, but that was a harsher way to put it. He looked like any old Miln, Pasht, or Gondy. He didn't stand out, just blended in with the crowd, and he was happy that way, as long as no one connected him with his younger sister.

As far as body type went, he was thin, he was long-limbed, but he was a bit of a weakling. He got away with that by playing eight-post, which didn't necessarily require much brawn, but ilooked/i like it did.

"And how are my favorite Ceruleans today?" Loral asked, leaning down to get closer to their level. Being unusually tall had its disadvantages, especially with average-sized children.

"Great!" Reptung said, shrugging noncommittally. He was dressed in normal gear; white sparkly jumpsuit with glowing cyan strips on both sides, collar popped. He liked to blend in, even when he was allowed to wear bright colors and stand out.

"Fine," Roxanne said, smiling up at her impossibly tall Father. She, however, was not allowed to take advantage of normal clothing like her brother was; the dress she wore was red, hugging her form in a modest manner, with the same glowing strips to either side, these strips a darker shade than the cyan. She had a plethora of suits, dresses, and other garments in her room, most of them in shades of red, blue, and purple. Her Mother thought maybe if she could flaunt the fact that her family was powerful, wealthy, and influential, she might not be picked on as much.

Her Mother didn't really know anything about bullies.

"I heard you made a friend today," he said, phrasing it carefully so as not to risk offending her. He was very careful about the things he said and how he said them around his children. He understood, first of all, that the two should be spoken to as near-equals and not as kids, but he also knew that the two of them had very different personalities, and sometimes Reptung could be very immature, and Roxanne could, when she wanted, be very sharp and even a little prideful. He often had to go at a subject delicately, and that statement was his way of testing the waters before diving in. As it turned out, the water was cold, but not quite so cold as to be frigid.

"Not a friend," Roxanne said, averting her gaze. "I was simply assisted by the only person in the school who sees me as anything near Cerulean."

"Well, maybe they will be your friend at some point in the near future," he said. "Don't discount anyone as a potential ally."

"I'll try not to," Roxanne said, meeting Loral's eyes briefly and giving a smile that just touched her eyes.

"Good," Loral said. "I like that Mind boy, anyway. He's a good kid." Reptung gave Roxanne a look of disbelief mixed with mild surprise.

"Mace Mind? Make friends with iyou?/i Right!"

"Reptung!" Isst snapped, giving her son a hard glare. "You apologize to your sister right now!"

"No," Roxanne said, looking to her brother. "That's fine. He's right. I've got just as little chance of becoming friends with Mace Mind as he does with Deldja Cortex." She smirked and watched as Reptung worked out what she had just said. His brow darkened a second later.

"Why you—"

"Pathetic excuse for Cerulean nobility!" Roxanne finished for him, turning and dashing up the stairs as he gave chase. "Ah, but you forget that even twice your weight and width, I run fastest, and my tongue is far sharper than yours!"

"I know plenty of names that'll have your tongue filled so much with envy that it will spend day upon day at the grindstone!" he shouted.

"A sharp tongue and a dirty mouth are separated by a thin line, but they are nowhere near one and the same!" Roxanne shouted back, darting into her room at the top of the stairs and peeking out of it as Reptung scrambled up after her.

"Freak!" he shouted, gaining the last step.

"Pedophile!" she accused (though not really meaning it), and slammed and locked the door just as he came upon it.

At the bottom of the stairs, Loral clutched his forehead and leaned against the wall. "I think I need a few tablets of acetaminophen," he groaned. Isst gave him a smile and patted his hand as Rit inched past, grabbing Loral's suitcase and heading through the house toward the other staircase.

"It could have been worse."

"Yes," he agreed. "It could have gone on longer."

UPDATE! :D

XDXD, SO. Yes. Mace realizes that he must have left his watch with Roxanne (Aida), Loral comes home from some sort of conference, and some more things are explained in passing. Reptung tries to hurt Roxanne's feelings, but quite clearly Roxanne has the upper hand. XDXD  
>Deldja is one of Roxanne's bullies, BTW. Just a reminder. So. ENJOY! :D XDXD<p> 


	7. An Unexpected Guest

Isst cracked the door open early the next morning before throwing it open with a wide smile on her kindly face. "Mace Mind!" she exclaimed. "How nice to see you! It's been a while, hasn't it?" Mace smiled and nodded.

"Indeed, it has, Lady Cerebellum," he greeted. Isst waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Isst is fine, dear. But knowing your family, you'll probably insist on calling me something formal anyway, so Mrs. works, too." The Minds and the Cerebellums were not strangers—even before Roxanne had been brought into their lives, Loral and Macklnn, as well as Loral and Mendje, had done a lot of work together; Loral was a government official in charge of census-taking and population, which meant he often had to deal with immigration policies and interplanetary travel, not to mention the fact that Macklnn still stopped by every once in a while to check up on Roxanne and question the family on how she was doing.

Mace hadn't been to the Cerebellum household in quite a few months, but he was impossible to miss. Mace and Reptung were also placed in the same class, to graduate in the same year, although Mace was younger and looked older, and the two had worked together on projects before.

Despite the events Roxanne had informed her of the day before, Isst, rather painfully, had to accept that although it would be nice for the two to become friends, Mace was much more likely to have come to see Reptung, and so it was that that was where she directed him.

"Reptung's room is up the stairs and two doors down," she instructed him, gesturing to the staircase.

"Actually, I'm here to speak with Aida," he corrected. Isst could have hugged that boy until he was no more than a gelatinous blob of blue skin cells, bone dust, and organ tissues.

"Well, then her door is the first to the right," she directed, and with a word of thanks, the touching of foreheads, and the nod of his head, Mace headed up the stairs. Once he was a safe distance away, Isst shut the door, calmly turned away, taking slow, careful steps to the kitchen before she broke out into a full-blown run and practically tackled Civ as she leapt onto the minion's arm with a squeal.

With a heavy ithunk,/i the butter knife in Civ's robotic hand flew up and imbedded itself in the ceiling. With a weary inner sigh she made a promise to herself to get it and the four others down once Roxanne and Reptung went off the school.

It had been a ilong/i month.

Mace knocked thrice upon Roxanne's bedroom door, each rap of his knuckles on hybridized oak and titanium crisp and precise.

"Reptung, I swear, if I get ione/i more letter accepting the donation of my body to science, I will tear you open from—oh." Roxanne froze mid-sentence, eyes wide, a stuffed toy held high as if she were poised to strike. She was still dressed in her nightwear, her hair having yet to be properly groomed, and she looked as if she were a house pet caught in the wake of an automatic cleaning system. Mace smiled.

"Ollo," he greeted.

"O—ollo," Roxanne managed at a squeak before clearing her throat and fixing her posture. Ollo? iOllo?/i Ollo was a greeting reserved for affectionate souls or when some form of business venture was forthcoming. What kind of business could iMace Mind/i possibly have with iher!/i "Can I—Can I help you?" she asked, her eyes refusing to stop being plate-sized, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself from looking like some sort of scared animal.

"I do believe so," Mace said with a nod. "I recently misplaced a watch of mine—a very important one, I might add—and the last time I took notice of its presence was yesterday morning. I was wondering if you had seen it?" Roxanne could have smacked herself. iThe watch!/i Of icourse/i it was the watch, iduh!/i

"One minute," Roxanne said, quickly shutting the door. Mace waited patiently as he heard the sound of muffled footsteps and low murmurs. It was only a moment or two later that Roxanne reappeared at the door, a silver object clutched loosely in her hand, which she quickly deposited into Mace's hand. "Here," she said quickly, nervous. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it, but I think it fell off of your wrist when you helped me to class."

"That's all right," Mace said, looking extremely giddy as he strapped the watch to his wrist. "I'm simply pleased to have it back. It—Good God," he said, looking up and catching sight of something behind Roxanne. "What on Cerul is ithat?/i" Roxanne turned quickly to find Quicksilver on the floor, batting at one of her erasers.

"That?" Roxanne asked, looking nervously back to Mace. "That's Quicksilver. My—My kitten. Why?"

"Would you mind if I took a look at it?" Mace asked, seeming entranced by the animal.

"I—I guess not," Roxanne answered, stepping aside to allow him to enter her room and closing the door behind him. Gilda, who was in the middle of preparing herself for the day ahead, shared a glance with the teenager.

"What exactly iis/i it?" Mace asked, sitting down and crossing his legs as he observed Quicksilver's movements.

"She's a kitten," Roxanne answered, slowly sitting at the edge of her bed. "My birth parents sent her with me from my home planet."

"I hadn't known you had brought anything living with you," Mace said, sounding intrigued and a little startled. "I thought it was just you, a few recordings of your people, and some sort of Bar called a Tetty."

"A Teddy Bear," Roxanne corrected, and Mace nodded absently, his attention focused on the reddish-orange feline.

"This is an amazing specimen," Mace breathed, reaching out a hand briefly before withdrawing it and looking to Roxanne. "Would you mind if I touched it—her?" Roxanne shook her head.

"Go ahead," she said, feeling a little dazed and just the slightest bit uncomfortable. iMace Mind/i was in iher/i room! "She—She likes to be petted." Mace reached out a tentative hand, halting as Quicksilver looked up abruptly and sniffed at his hand before resuming her eraser-batting duties. Mace very slowly, very carefully, ran his hand over the kitten's pelt, withdrawing quickly when she looked to him again. Several strands of fur had come off in his hand, and as he peered down, rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger, Mace caught sight of the time and leapt to his feet.

"I apologize, for keeping you so long, Aida," Mace apologized, touching his head to hers in a hurried motion, "but I thank you for your time. I must be going now, as Minion is waiting for me, and we still have preparations to make before classes begin!" He gave a nod of farewell before exiting her room quickly, just barely managing to save himself from tripping in a flurry of feet before he left.

Roxanne watched as he left, her hand lifting to her forehead, and she smiled dreamily. She could still feel his head pressed against her incredibly small one, one of his hands touching the very back of her head to steady the both of them…She would never have a chance to, she knew, but…she could get used to that.

Suddenly Roxanne seemed to realize something and jumped to her feet, dashing to the door and peering down the hall just as the back of Mace's head disappeared down the stairs. She felt someone watching her and turned to see Reptung and Gishnar standing in the doorway of her adoptive brother's room, their jaws slack and eyes wide. Reptung narrowed his eyes in suspicion when he processed his sister's presence.

"I'll bet you brainwashed him into helping you," Reptung accused, "and now he's somehow under your control."

"How could I possibly brainwash him?" Roxanne demanded, tapping her head in a meaningful manner.

"I don't know," Reptung said with a shrug, cross with her logical statement. "You're an alien; how do we know you're not going through some sort of weird metamorphosis that will give you all your dormant alien powers?" Roxanne icould/i have pointed out that Reptung read/watched too many horror stories, but instead she just rolled with it.

"Yup," she agreed, catching Reptung a little off guard with her matter-of-fact attitude. "I have finished with regular puberty and reached alien puberty. My powers are slowly growing in and I've begun using them on Mace Mind. It's only a matter of time before I have everyone on Cerul under my control." She smiled pleasantly, giving her statement a creepy atmosphere. Reptung gave her a look like her was unsure whether he believed her or not and slowly began backing into his room.

"I'm watching you," he warned, then turned, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"Sir!" Gishnar exclaimed, trying the knob before knocking on the entrance. "Sir, let me in! We still have to finish your schematics for technology! Sir!" Roxanne shook her head and retreated silently back into her own room. She felt like nothing could touch her.

**Author Comments: Mace drops in to pick up his watch and makes an impromptu inspection of Quicksilver, and Roxanne half-convinces her brother she has mind-control powers.  
>The day's starting out pretty well.<strong>


	8. Oh, Crabnuggets!

"Morning Mom," Mace greeted as he entered his abode. His Mother jumped in her seat, spewing hot liquidated caffeine all over the dining table as she heard the door close. Mace resisted the urge to laugh. He'd forgotten to tell her he was going out. Again.

"Mace!" Mendje exclaimed, standing and clutching at her chest. "You almost gave me a heart attack! I thought you were upstairs!" Mace grinned.

"Sorry, Mom. I had to go over and get my watch back from Aida."

"Cerebellum?" Mendje asked. Aida was a sort of common name, and while she only knew of the one, it wouldn't have surprised her if Mace knew five or six.

"That's the one!" he agreed. "I accidentally—Oh, crabnuggets!" he exclaimed, slapping his large forehead angrily.

"Mace, language!" Mendje chided.

"Sorry. I forgot to give Mrs. Cerebellum Dad's reports! I'll have to give it to Aida at some point today. I'm such an idiot!"

"Mace, don't talk like that," Mendje said gently, stepping forward to give her son a hug. "You're brilliant, and don't you forget that."

"Well, for being as brell—brall—ibrill/iiant as I'm made out to be, I'm pretty forgetful, now aren't I?" Mendje just tsked and shook her head. She planted a peck on his cheek and went back to the table to gather her reports together and make sure none of them had been stained.

"Don't upset yourself, Mace. You're the only one who has any doubts about you. Besides, you get that forgetfulness from your Father." She smiled widely. "If you want to see forgetful, watch him try to find his goggles." Mace laughed.

"I suppose it could be worse," he agreed, then glanced down at his watch. "Looks like I've got an hour before school starts. Are you working from home today?"

"No. I'll be making a trip over to Crypt today. I'll be back by morning with the Royal Family. Krut will be coming with them. I was hoping you could help show him around the school tomorrow?"

"Sure," Mace said with a shrug. He got along all right with Krut, the Prince of Crypt, and since his Mother worked with the King and Queen quite often, he was usually the one to keep the Prince busy.

"It really is such a shame Roxanne—Aida, I mean—didn't land on Crypt. She'd fit in so well there—Better than she does here, at least. She looks a lot more like Cryptonians than she does Ceruleans, and she'd be weaker and more vulnerable than they are there, but she'd certainly be able to blend with the crowd. If only they weren't so strict on immigration policies, she could've been raised there…" Mendje trailed off, and just as Mace was about to dismiss himself, she spoke again. "Maybe you could introduce the two?" Mendje suggested, looking up. "Maybe if Krut takes a liking to her, she'll be able to visit or even move to Crypt once she's of legal age."

"I could introduce them," Mace said, although he was a little hesitant on that note. Why it was, he didn't know, and he didn't really have the time or the need to analyze it. He'd introduce them tomorrow, and today he would give Aida that stupid little envelop that he had somehow forgotten to give her mother. iStupid, stupid, stupid,/i he berated himself as he dashed up the stairs. He turned abruptly halfway up and lost his balance, tumbling head-over-heels down the steps to land in a heap at the bottom. Everyone immediately came running, but Mace was on his feet in a moment.

"I'm fine!" he proclaimed. "I'm fine! I just forgot to tell Mom goodbye!" Macklnn rolled his eyes.

"Mace, what in the world are we going to do with you?" Mace's answer was swift and serious.

"Keep me away from the stairs."

**Author Comments: Oh, Mace, you so clumsy! XDXD  
>Well, not much to say, the chapter kind of explains itself...Oh! I apologize for the whole "Crypt" thing. I didn't realize until just now that Crypt sounds a whole helluva lot like Krypton...XDXD, Enjoy! :D<strong>


	9. Trust And Suspicion

The day passed in a haze for young Roxanne Aida Cerebellum. She moved from class to class, her hand moving to take notes on things she heard on a superficial level while her mind was completely elsewhere.

He'd spoken to her. He'd greeted her-iOllo,/i of all things to use as a greeting! iHe'd been in her room!/i And then…He'd itouched/i her!

Oh, it wasn't a big thing that he had said goodbye to her in the traditional sense. Roxanne had had plenty of experience with that between her family, meetings with official figures, and classes—most professors required each student to use the traditional means of farewell after class was over with—but as far as other students went, most tried to avoid making physical contact with her at all costs.

The traditional means of farewell was a simple thing, but it was so much more complex than it seemed. In the act of two Ceruleans touching heads, they shared a very brief, mental/emotional link. It was almost like a tiny electric shock traveling through the immense frontal lobes of each, and it served to give a brief assurance that the two were on even terms, if nothing else.

Prolonged contact gave both Ceruleans an ever-increasing amount of insight into the other's mind; to touch heads at all with any purposefulness put any Cerulean in a vulnerable position, and it increased the meaningfulness of a proper goodbye. It built trust and closeness, and to refuse a traditional farewell was just about the clearest way to say either "I don't trust you" or "You can't trust me." The only way to say it any more clearly would be to allow the connection for more than a second while in that state of mind.

Sometimes it could be used by force to get information out of someone else, but it put the person forcing the other at risk of having their own mind invaded.

For Roxanne, of course, the contact did nothing—she wasn't Cerulean, her mind not well enough developed for such a thing, and it was simply making skin-to-skin contact. But she had been raised as any other Cerulean child, and knew what the connection was isupposed/i to mean, and though it didn't mean exactly the same thing to her, it was important.

Several times throughout the day, Roxanne found her fingers reaching up to touch that spot where the most pressure had been applied between them, or to the spot on the back of her head where his hand had been…And then she would mentally slap herself and try to put her mind back into her classwork. The effort was futile.

Things just seemed to go by so quickly today, her feet moving her from class to class without her mind being involved. It was a good thing Gilda was there beside her the whole of the way, or she probably would have lost herself altogether in her dream-head, or not noticed when the teachers called on her, or kept doodling little blood-pumping organs and hormone glands on her notes all period, or not taken noticed when Deldja and Andarin started pelting her with large wads of paper.

But when Mace called her name in the halls on her way to the cafeteria, Roxanne didn't need Gilda to tell her to whirl around on her heel and freeze up as Mace came dashing down the hall, lab coat flying behind him like a cape (he'd just come from Chemistry), with Minion following after at a more respectable pace.

"Aida!" Mace exclaimed a second time as he caught up to her, bending over for a moment to catch his breath. "It—it seems that the fates and my own stupidity have decided to bring us together for the third time in two days," he said as he recovered, pulling himself to his full height with a cheerful grin. Roxanne smiled shyly back, blushing and casting her gaze downward.

"I doubt you've an ounce of stupidity within you," she mumbled.

"Oh, I've more than you might think," Mace laughed before digging in his pockets and pulling forth a small yellow envelop. "My Father drew this up," he explained, handing it to her. "Enclosed are the results of a few tests he's run with some of your DNA. I forgot to give it to you or someone in your immediate family this morning."

"Oh," Roxanne said as she took the item and placed it carefully into one of her folders. "Thank you. I didn't know he was still running any tests."

"Oh, my Father has a few skin cells lying around here and there, and he's prone to picking up and dropping projects at whim." Roxanne nodded, feeling awkward. She didn't know quite how to reply to that. "Anyway," Mace went on upon seeing that she wasn't going to answer, "your kitten—what did you call her? Mercury?"

"Quicksilver," Roxanne supplied.

"Ah, yes! I found her to be quite intriguing. She's like nothing on Cerul!"

"Well, she bears a slight resemblance to the species' in the genus Lazzarinthsin," Roxanne pointed out. "They have the same basic structure and they're both carnivorous, though Quicksilver iis/i much smaller…" Mace's hand rebounded softly off of his cranium.

"You're right!" he exclaimed. "I hadn't even thought about seeing if she matched up with another species, but then, I didn't know about it until this morning! I'm sure you and your family have done a good deal of research on her already, and I…"

Off to the side, Minion and Gilda stood, watching as their Master and Mistress conversed. Mace was very animated where Roxanne was very shy, which was the norm for the both of them. Minion seemed content to watch, but Gilda harbored a certain bitter suspicion toward the two, and after a few moments, she didn't see the harm in bringing it to light.

"What does Mace want with my Mistress?" Gilda hissed quietly at Minion, who, surprised, looked up.

"I don't know what you mean," he said almost dumbly, and Gilda bared her teeth menacingly.

"You know very well what I mean!" she accused. "No one talks to my Mistress kindly! What is he planning? Is he trying to get her hopes up so he can make her twice as miserable when he pulls some sort of prank on her?"

"What?" Minion asked, completely dumbfounded.

"Did Deldja put you two up to this?"

"Sir hates Deldja," Minion said quietly. "She's very aggressive and goes too far outside the realms of tradition for his liking." Gilda snorted.

"Right," she growled. "That's iexactly/i what you'd say to try and convince me that the two of you mean no ill will. I have my eyes on you!" Minion, at a loss for words, nodded slowly and backed away slightly. His attention was drawn back to his Master when Mace exclaimed,

"Wonderful! I shall see you on the morrow then, Aida. Good tidings to you, and to you as well, Gilda," he bid before touching heads with Roxanne and turning swiftly. "Come, Mignon! We've still our locker to visit!" Mace set out at a swift pace, and Minion gave a small wave before setting out to catch up with his Master.

"What did you agree to?" Gilda asked.

"He said he'd like to come over and inspect Quicksilver again tomorrow," Roxanne told her. "After school."

"And you agreed?" Roxanne nodded and Gilda cast another suspicious glance down the hall. "I don't trust them," she growled.

"I shouldn't either," Roxanne agreed.

"But you do."

"I've never had a friend before, besides you and Quicksilver," Roxanne pointed out. "I know I shouldn't get my hopes up, but it would be nice…"

"You only say that because it's Mace Mind," Gilda said, guiding Roxanne toward the lunch hall and causing her to blush.

"You're just a suspicious Sniv," Roxanne said a little haughtily, but Gilda idid/i have a point. If it was anyone else, Roxanne probably wouldn't let them near her.

Of course, everyone else threw books at her. So there was always that.


	10. Hearing: Super  Intelligence: Low

Krut was ugly.

On his home planet, he was about average looking, but here on Cerul, he was about three times as hideous as Roxanne, which was ireally/i saying something.

His skin was about the same shade as Roxanne's, he stood six feet tall (and probably wouldn't stop growing until he was about six' five"), and he was very wide with bulging, rippling muscles and a very small head. His face was sharp and his jaw was chiseled, his blue eyes tiny, and iboy/i was he hairy!

And, standing next to Mace, who had the shape of a male model, he looked even worse by comparison.

But in the back of his mind, Krut couldn't help but think nearly everyone there was just as ugly as they thought him to be. It was a matter of conditioning, and Krut hadn't grown up around blue people. In fact, most all of them looked about the same to him. A few stood out here and there, and there was one or two girls he saw as Mace showed him around the school that he couldn't help but think, "if only they weren't so blue…"

Beauty is, and always had been, in the eye of the beholder, and the beholder is so often drawn to what they know. What the Ceruleans knew was blue, and what the Cryptonians knew was white.

Mace and Krut had spent enough time around one another that they never really thought of one another as ugly, so much as they considered each other different. They weren't really friends, but they knew each other well enough from Mendje's line of work and Krut's royal heritage.

The day went smoothly, for the most part, as Krut sat in on the classes Mace attended and tried to learn something from them (he wasn't so bright, even for someone on his own planet) and Mace introduced him to students, minions, and staff.

Towards the end of the day, Mace had introduced Krut to just about everyone he knew, including Reptung, who seemed caught between greeting him and moving on or pointing out that his sister bore a resemblance. He had ended up taking the middle ground and greeted the Cryptonian before excusing himself and dashing down the halls with Gishnar on his tail. There were just a few students and professors left that hadn't been introduced. Unfortunately, one of them was Deldja.

Deldja was considered beautiful. She had a full figure, a deep blue complexion, full, dark lips, and striking brown eyes. Her eyebrows were nearly nonexistent, dark blue freckles coloring her nose and the surrounding area, and her teeth were perfect little pearls. Her family didn't have wealth and power, but her parents lavished her with anything they could afford to give her, being that she was the only child and their "baby." She had no qualms with imparting that fact on anyone who bore the slightest inkling of wanting to know. But then, she didn't have many qualms at all.

For a while it had been expected that Mace and Deldja would become a couple, and even still there were a few who expected it, Deldja included, but Mace wouldn't have it. He didn't care for Deldja. She was, plain and simple, a brat. She did anything she could to be the most popular student within the school system, and stepped on a lot of people just about constantly. She didn't see anything wrong with picking on other students, or if she did, she hid it rather well, and her personality was lacking in other aspects as well.

She desired Mace purely for his body, his wealth, and his power. She was indifferent toward such trivial things as personality, intellect, and interests. Mace was not so shallow, and all that she did assured him in every way that he wanted nothing to do with her.

She was also far too forward for Mace's liking. It was considered a stigma for a girl to ask out a boy, mostly because it was uncommon and because some men saw it as a jab at their masculinity, and other women sometimes saw it as a threat. It wasn't, of course, unheard of, and sometimes amounted to great things—it had been Mendje who first suggested that she and Macklnn develop a romantic relationship, but that was neither here nor there, the point being that it was not commonly seen as a positive thing. Deldja paid it no mind.

The girl had no problem with proposing a start to a relationship, and while that on its own would be an annoyance and a nuisance to those who weren't privy to it, she was irelentless/i in her efforts, particularly towards Mace. She had questioned him at least a hundred and forty-two times on the subject, and she was always straight-forward with her intentions, no hints, no round-abouts, no indirects. It was always right out in the open immediately, and it always played to the same tune. The worst thing was, no amount of denial could stave her off for long. She was the worst person Mace knew, and he knew a great many people.

But still, upon seeing her in the halls, Mace made an obligatory stop with Minion and Krut following close behind.

"Krut," Mace introduced, "this is Deldja, and this is her minion, Flooze." Deldja regarded Krut with open disdain, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Nice to meet you," he greeted, holding out a hand, which Deldja took after a moment's hesitation.

"It's a sad thing that the pleasure cannot be returned," she said, and Flooze snickered.

"It's a rude thing to say to the Prince of Crypt," Mace advised. In the back of his mind, he was almost hopeful that somehow Deldja's rude nature would be something Krut liked and he'd take iher/i back with him to Crypt. It would certainly solve his problems with her.

"It's a rude thing to say to anyone," Deldja quipped. "But I find it an accurate portrayal of my feelings. Speaking of feelings…"

"You are not assisting your case in insulting my friend, Deldja," Mace interjected in a warning tone. She gave him a haughty, childish glare, which was imitated by her minion. "It was most certainly not a pleasure to see you on this very fine day, Deldja," Mace said, turning with a nod and purposefully neglecting the traditional farewell.

"Go ahead and play hard-to-get, Mace!" Deldja called. "You know you want me!" Mace growled and grumbled under his breath, brow darkening considerably.

"Cheer up, Little Buddy," Krut said, slapping Mace lightly on the back. "Lightly" was a relative term, and Minion just barely caught him before he hit the ground.

For some reason, Krut had always called Mace his "little buddy." He supposed it was accurate, seeing that they were only friendly terms, and in comparison Mace was rather small, but it was still odd.

"Deldja can spend eternity in the endless darkness of oblivion, for all I care," Mace said at barely more than a whisper, but with Krut's naturally-born sense of hearing, it might as well have been a shout.

"She'll get what she deserves, I'm sure." Mace imagined that it must be very difficult to keep any secrets on Crypt. He was glad it was Ceruleans and not Cryptonians that had a touch of mind-linking.

"On her own time, I'm also sure," Mace muttered, then looked down. "Fishpaste!" he exclaimed.

"Sir!" Minion exclaimed, and Krut snorted childishly, as if swearing had been funny past Third Year.

"Sorry," Mace apologized, stopping in his tracks and bending down. "My laces are broken again, is all. I'll have to fix the inner mechanisms on these boots when I get home…" He trailed off as he began fiddling with his laces, triple- and then quadruple-knotting them so that they stayed well in place. Krut leaned against the nearest wall while they waited, and, meanwhile, Minion spotted a familiar face that each of the other two failed to.

"Look, Sir," Minion said as Mace stood, pointing. "There's Aida! Let's introduce the two of them now before we lose track of her.

"Must we?" Mace asked, sounding as if it were some sort of laborious chore he'd rather not attend to.

"Sir," Minion said, giving him his special, "you know you have to" look. "You promised your Mother you would, and you iwill./i"

"Fine," Mace sighed, trudging over to where Krut was bending a metal pen into all sorts of shapes with ease. "Krut, come!" he announced theatrically. "There is a figure within the school that my Mother has ordared—ordered," he corrected, "me to introduce you to! Anon, Prince, and away!" Krut gave Minion a questioning glance as Mace sped off, and Minion shook his head.

"He's been watching far too many documentaries on the feudal era lately."

"Aida!" Mace exclaimed, and for the fourth time in three days, Roxanne and Mace encountered one another. "I'd like to introduce you to Krut," he said, and he didn't even have to point out to her who "Krut" was. First of all, the name was distinctly Cryptonian—they were very fond of hard sounds on Crypt, thus the hard "c" sound that began the name of the planet—and secondly, the large, white-skinned Ceruleoid was very hard to miss. With a gesture to the young man, Mace added, "he's the Prince of Crypt. I've been showing him around the school today and introducing him to all of the students."

"It's nice to meet you," Roxanne said quietly, eyes down. She knew she must look a mess, regardless of the very obvious similarities the two shared; ugly to one was ugly to all, wasn't it?

"You, too!" Krut exclaimed with a grin. His grammar, she was soon to find, was very loose and imprecise.

"How—How have you found our school system to be, so-far-in?" she asked, forcing the words from out her mouth. She had to swallow a great deal of apprehension in doing so, apprehension being what made up the better part of her social interactions.

"School's alright," Krut said, then grinned wider, leaning against the wall and stooping just a little so he was a little more on her level. "You know, you're kinda cute." Roxanne blushed, bowing her head further.

"Th—Thank you," she stuttered. "But—But really, I'm really not."

"Sure you are!" Krut exclaimed, reaching out to touch her waist. Roxanne flinched away, and Krut backed off a little, but he didn't stop insisting that she was pretty. It didn't make her believe it any more, and she just kept telling him she wasn't. It was clear that she wasn't seeking for appraisal the way Deldja might do, but simply didn't think much of herself.

On his own planet, Krut was average. He was smaller than some, bigger than others, had about an average amount of musculature, the same powers everyone else had—he was nothing special. But his Mother and Father had rule over the entire planet, so he was pretty much the catch of the walk (was that how that saying went? Catch of the walk? Didn't matter, he was loaded!). Here though, that wasn't true, not that he had expected it to be, but he was absolutely shocked to find another Cryptonian on Cerul, a pretty one at that, and even more so that she didn't seem to realize just iwho/i he was. Usually by the time someone said "Prince" he had girls jumping all over him.

"What're you doing here on Cerul, anyway?" he asked after their back and forth had gone on for some odd minutes. Roxanne was becoming anxious about being late for her next class, though she truly didn't want to be rude. "Your parents have a government job or something?"

"Aida isn't Cyptonian," Mace said quickly. In the background, he was also becoming impatient, and an irrational part of his mind told him that he needed to get Krut away from Aida iright now./i "She's human."

"Human?" Krut asked, bridling in surprise. "What's that?"

"She came from a far away planet called Earth," Mace explained quickly, "It's about nine billion light-years from here." Roxanne nodded, looking up and then back down.

"Woah," Krut said. "That's heavy."

"What?" Roxanne and Mace asked simultaneously, neither familiar with the colloquialism.

"Nothing," Krut said, not feeling like going into an explanation for reasons A and B, A being that he didn't really know the definition in this sense, and B because he knew that a Cerulean, particularly Mace, could spend an indefinite amount of time arguing the use and placement of words and slang. "So, you're like, exotic?"

iShe's not some kind of animal or fruit you know,/i Mace wanted to say, but held his tongue. Roxanne shrugged.

"I…Suppose so. I guess…I don't know…"

"Cool. What're you doing here anyway, if you're not Cerulean?"

"I was raised here," Roxanne said. "My biological parents were consumed, along with the rest of my planet, in a roving black hole. They sent me here before they died, and I was raised by my Cerulean family."

"Ah, crabnuggets, that's gotta be rough. You know, you wouldn't even know you're human to look at ya. Ya look just like a Cryptonian!" Mace and Minion winced visibly at his choice of words, Gilda's brow darknened, and Roxanne just bit her bottom lip. Krut didn't even notice. He thought he was giving a compliment, but…

"Come on," Mace said quickly, pushing at Krut's arm to get him going. "We're going to be late for the Halls of Study, and we don't want Aida to be late to her next class, either, so let's get going now shall we?" He said it all in one breath, and Krut seemed to be a little confused at the quick reaction. He was definitely inot/i that bright. "I apologize for our abrupt departure," Mace said with a nod in Aida's direction. He was on the verge of blushing in embarrassment for Krut's behavior. "But we really must be going, and I shall be seeing you again an hour after school has ended! So long!"

"See ya again, cute stuff!" Krut called with a wink and the snap of his fingers as he allowed himself to be lead away. Minion followed after them, mouthing a quick, "so sorry" at Gilda before running after. Gilda and Roxanne made a quick dash for their classroom, reaching it just as the late alarm sounded.

"He was…Nice," Gilda allowed as she and Roxanne settled into their seats near the front of the classroom.

"He…tried to be," Roxanne agreed in a whisper, then hid her face in her hands. "But he was iso/i ugly and clueless! I hate to sound so shallow, but…" She shuddered. "That's what iI/i look like!"

"Nonsense," Gilda snapped. "You look so much better than any Cryptonian on your worst day! You saw how wide he was—just think how big and buff their women must be!" Roxanne managed a smile and set a hand discreetly on the dome of Gilda's suit.

"You're the best," she thanked.

"I try," Gilda said, offering a smile in return.

"You succeed."

"And you need to succeed in this class, Miss Cerebellum," Professor Jeckdal said, overhearing the conversation and casting a disapproving gaze her way. "So I suggest you and Gilda stop conversing and begin taking notes."

"Yes, Sir," Roxanne squeaked, lowering her head as other students began to laugh. Another glance from the Professor quieted them again, and he went back to using his laser pen to etch the lesson into the surface of the front wall, which was made of pure light energy. She felt a sudden sinking feeling in her gut, and Gilda seemed to sense it, setting a robotic hand on her Mistress's shoulder.

It was only a matter of time before people who had seen her talking to Krut started telling everyone else. Who knew what they'd call her then? For that matter, who knew what they'd ithrow/i at her then? But then, they couldn't get much worse than ibooks,/i could they?

**Author Comments: Props are in order for Tuptaju on dA, who guessed that Krut was Metro Man, because, well, he is! XDXD  
>Freakin' Deldja...Sheesh...Her minion's name even sounds bad...Flooze...Like floozy...XDXD<br>SELF-TYING FLIPPING SHOES! THAT'S RIGHT, I WENT THERE! XDXD, I got a lot of sleep last night-this morning-this afternoon-whatever. I didn't go to school. I got a lot of sleep. I'm energetic. So there. XDXD  
>Cerul had a feudal era? Why yes, yes it did. Because I can, that's why.<br>...Krut is kind of an idiot. -.- XDXD**


	11. I Want To Be Cerulean

"How was school?" Macklnn asked as Mace entered the door with Minion and Krut close behind.

"Could have been worse," Mace said, giving his father a look that said, "I could tell you the truth, but I really can't." Macklnn understood immediately.

"Well, Krut, your parents are waiting for you in the living area. Mace, Minion, let's all wish them well." The three boys followed Macklnn from the room and into a lavishly furnished area. Unlike the uniform white entranceway and several surrounding rooms, the den, or living area as some called it, was very colorful. The walls were painted with thousands of miniaturized versions of the family crest—a bright blue lightning bolt on a black background. The black could be interchanged with dark blue, but the black was a preference.

Everything in the room was in different shades of colors, the chairs were red and green and yellow, the book cases were brown and purple and orange, and the carpet was blue. They so appreciated color in the Mind household, though Macklnn and Mendje chose to wear the customary sparkling white jumpsuits, and world that Mace ventured into every day, with uniform white walls, floors, ceilings, and buildings, hordes of people with white clothing, the ground paved with sparkling marble, was so very clean and pristine and perfect. It was a sight that might have filled someone from a less eutopic age with wonder, but it was so very much the same from town to town, city to city, state to state. Color was had, but only in private, for in the public eye, whiteness allowed for dirt and grime to be spotted and removed immediately. It prevented disease and kept Cerul clean.

That was part of why the Minds lived so far away from the city where Mace attended school, and why they preferred to work from home. The estate was large and multi-storied, and they weren't far from a lush forest. It was one of the last unaltered places on Cerul.

Upon entering the room, King Ort and Queen Yrrrt stood. They were both tall, Ort soaring to seven feet and Yrrt stable at six. Ort had short, close-cropped black hair with sharp blue eyes and a long beard-mustache ensemble. He looked hard and fierce and had a scar across his left eye, which was also blind.

No one dared ask what could have possibly caused harm to the King of invincible beings.

Yrrrt had long brown hair, curly and wavy at once, with much softer, rounder features. She was less muscular than her husband and son, but her strength was still evident in strong, thick limbs and a firm structure.

King Ort looked fierce and formidable, and Yrrrt looked less than welcoming, but the both of them lit up as their son entered the room. Much like Mendje and Macklnn, they still remembered that point in time when he was young where they almost lost him…But no one liked to focus on that, especially knowing that another inhabited planet had been done away with in order to keep them alive. That chapter of history was barely spoken of, and would never be recorded in any history books; quite certainly, no one would ever allow Aida to know.

"Krut! My boy!" the King exclaimed, holding out his arms.

"Hi, Dad, Mom," Krut greeted.

"Are you ready to head home?" Queen Yrrrt questioned.

"Sure."

"Farewell, Mendje," Yrrrt bade, kissing each of Mendje's cheeks, "Macklnn." She repeated the action, and the two accepted with the smallest possible amount of discomfort. Much like the touching of Cerulean heads, the kissing of both cheeks was a traditional farewell for a woman of Crypt. King Ort bade the two farewell, not kissing their cheeks but setting a hand on the head of each of the blue adults and kissing it (his hand, not their heads); it was the traditional farewell of a male of Crypt.

Cryptonians were strange.

The two then allowed the Ceruleans to touch heads with them, the series of tasks showing the acceptance of the other's culture. Mace and Krut, being respectable males of a similar age, would have no such series of tasks between the two of them. Instead, they simply said their farewells and grasped hands for a few seconds before saluting one another.

"Farewell, Prince of Crypt," Mace said with mock seriousness.

"Farewell, Noble Cerulean," Krut returned with the same tone and set to his face. It was silly, but they'd invented it when they were little, and just hadn't yet grown out of it. They smiled and laughed as Mendje herded the Royal Family out the door, giving her own husband and son a kiss and a promise to be home by midnight.

Minion bade the collection goodbye as they exited the room, having not entered in the first place, and when everyone had gone off about their business, Mace and Minion headed upstairs. Mace dropped off his things, checked his watch, and very quickly licked each forefinger and ran them through his eyebrows, trying not to let Minion notice. Minion saw, but he decided it would be best not to ask.

"Let's get headed, Mignon!" Mace exclaimed, forefinger of his right hand extended into the air.

"To where, Sir?"

"To the Cerebellum house, of course!"

"Why are we going there, Sir?"

"I told you, didn't I?" Mace asked. Minion shook his body as if shaking his head. "Oh," he said, folding one arm over his chest and using the other to stroke his chin hair. "I could have sworn I had…No matter! The kitten," he said, snapping his fingers, "Quicksilver! Aida said she would allow me to examine her more closely, and that is precisely what I intend to do! Come now, Minion! We must be going, or we will be late, and that would be very undesirable, now wouldn't it?"

"Of course, Sir," Minion agreed, following Mace and closing the door gently behind them as Mace dashed out. The teenager grabbed the banister and threw himself up, sailing down the railing as if it were a slide with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. Minion followed quickly behind, taking the stairs one at a time and meeting his Master at the door.

"We're going out, Dad!" Mace called.

"Where are you—" Macklnn started to ask where they were headed, but was cut short when Mace slammed the door behind himself and Minion. Macklnn sighed. He was a good kid, but he was always running off to all corner of creation and undertaking all sorts of random projects with manic energy at all hours of the day and night. He smiled and shook his head. He reminded him so much of himself at that age…

Roxanne was in the kitchen assisting Isst, Civ, and Gilda again. Every few seconds her eyes would flit toward the arch through which the rest of the house was accessible. From her place, washing dishes while Gilda dried them (sure, they icould/i have used the laser filth-removal, or the automatic dish washer, or any number of the cleansing mechanisms stored away in closets and storage spaces, but they preferred to do their own work most of the time—it gave them all a feeling of satisfaction and pride that was lost when it was done by machines, and the machines also offended the minions of the household, though none of them would ever admit it), Roxanne could just make out the very edge of the door.

"You know, Roxanne," Isst said as she laid noodles out in the bottom of a pan, "you and Gilda are getting older. In just a few short years, she'll be too old for a name change. You should start considering what to rename her."

"I don't want to rename her," Roxanne said, looking up at Gilda. "It's the name her birth mother gave her, and it's beautiful. I don't think she needs a new one." Usually, minions were renamed by the time a Cerulean was five or six, and while the name wasn't permanent until seventeen, it usually didn't change after that. Almost all Ceruleans renamed their minions at some point, to show that they embraced the minion as their own and to strengthen their bond. But Roxanne truly didn't want to rename her minion. She'd known her as Gilda from the time she'd been brought to the planet, and that was the name she wanted to continue to call her by.

Isst was silent for a few very long moments, and Roxanne finally looked up to see her giving her a very pointed smile. Roxanne might have cursed if it had been anyone but her mother standing there. Isst had just turned Gilda's naming into a lesson on her own choice of name.

"My name is still Aida," she said crossly.

"Sweetheart, iwhy/i won't you let anyone call you anything but Aida? Why don't you like your birth name?"

"Because it's not normal!" Roxanne exclaimed. "Aida is the name you gave me—"

"The icentered/i name I gave you, not the first," Isst pointed out.

"—and Aida is a perfectly normal, perfectly iaverage/i name! Roxanne is just so weird and strange and out of place! It takes people two or three tries to be able to pronounce it!"

"Roxanne—"

"Aida means 'returning visitor,'" Roxanne stated, cutting her mother off. "It also means, 'of the stars,' and in some parts of Cerul, it means 'present.' You always told me those were the reasons you decided that that would be my central name; I am 'of the stars,' and I was a gift to you and Dad, and that's all I want to be. I don't want to be human, I don't want to have hair, and I don't iwant/i to stand out. I iwant/i to be Cerulean, I iwant/i to be bald, I iwant/i to blend in, and I would ivery much like/i to be blue and have a head that isn't so ridiculously small!

"My family is the only thing about me that's normal, and my own ibrother/i doesn't even want to admit that I even exist, let ialone/i that we have the same parents, and unlike Gilda, my first name isn't normal, and I will continue to perpetrate the lie that Aida is my ireal/i name, because as far as I'm concerned, it is."

"Roxanne, you should feel respect and pride for your heritage. It's rich and diverse, and—"

"Well I idon't!/i" Roxanne shouted, washing the dishes quickly and forcefully to give her hands something to do. "I'm inot/i Cerulean, so I don't even have any memories of ianything/i that happened before I was three, so I have ino/i recollection of who my people were or who my parents were or what life on my planet was like! All I know was that they put me in a pod and sent me into space with Quicksilver, a note, and a teddy bear while a black hole was bearing down on the planet, that my Earth name was Roxanne Ritchi, by some huge coincidence, Cerulean and Human were identical languages, and everyone there is dead! Fargon!" she shouted at a knife slipped and cut into her hand.

"Roxanne," Isst said, laying the pan aside and going to her daughter's aid, but Roxanne turned and dashed out of the kitchen and up the stairs, which were to the immediate left of the front door. Gilda gave Isst and Civ an apologetic look before dashing up after her Mistress. Isst closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter, close to tears.

"I'm going to go sit down, Civ," Isst said. "You just…Just finish up here, and I might be back in a few minutes." Civ nodded for her Mistress to go ahead and leave, which she did, before looking back to her work.

"That miserable little girl," Civ growled to herself. "Her Mother works so hard and tries her best, but she doesn't seem to have any sort of compassion for her. If Madam just hadn't married Loral, we wouldn't even have been a part of this family. The only reason we ihave/i that girl is because Loral works with the Minds, and the Minds were the ones who found her in their back yard. Loral is the source of all her trouble, but she just won't listen!"

"You know you only think he's the source of her trouble because you don't care for me," Rit growled from the doorway, and Civ spun around to face him with a snarl of her own.

"What are iyou/i doing here?" she demanded. "The kitchen is imy/i domain!"

"My Master sent me to find out why Isst is crying in the master bedroom," Rit said, crossing his robotic, lendor-like arms. "And I come in here and find you going on about Sir iand/i Roxanne. What is wrong with you?"

"Everyone in this house is what's wrong me!" Civ exclaimed. "Roxanne goes off and upsets Isst at every opportunity, Reptung is constantly disobeying his mother's wishes and Loral—Loral is just the source of it all!" Rit gasped.

"You used Isst's name!" he whisper-shouted. "You call yourself a minion and you used your Mistresses actual name! And as for the rest of it; you sicken me."

"iI/i sicken iyou?/i"

"Yes, you do. Isst is unhappy, so you blame Loral, simply because your personality conflicts with Isst's so drastically that you see Loral as a threat! You grasp at istraws/i to tie him in, and now you're blaming him for Roxanne being unhappy!"

"Roxanne is only here because the Minds found her and the Minds knew Loral and Madam were looking to adopt a daughter, and they only knew ithat/i because Loral works with them! If they weren't married, they wouldn't have been looking for a daughter, and the Minds could have adopted her!"

"And Roxanne would probably be just as unhappy because she's a iteenager,/i and a human one at that! And Isst would be twice as unhappy because she wouldn't have Roxanne, or Reptung, ior/i Loral! You only think about the immediate and about yourself! Try looking at how happy Isst is the majority of the time, at how happy she was the other day when Roxanne came home and told her she'd had a good day at school! If she'd married someone else, she might not have been able to be a stay-at-home mother! That's not a simple thing, you know. That is something only the wealthy can afford and only the prestigious can truly allow!"

Suddenly a small alarm rang, notifying the inhabitants of the house that someone was at the door. Rit turned to answer the call, but Roxanne was already dashing down the stairs, one of her newer dresses on (looking anywhere near presentable was futile, but genetics be darned, she was going to itry/i), one hand bandaged, and headed for the door. She flung the door open wide to greet no other than Mace Mind, who was smiling, as he almost always was.

Civ's jaw dropped, and Rit smirked as Roxanne led him and Minion timidly up the steps to her room.

"I'm going to tell Sir and Isst that Roxanne's already feeling better," Rit said, fish body turning to face Civ while his mechanical body stayed stationary. "You can do just about anything you like, but I'd consider thinking about how happy Isst is going to be when she hears about this, if I were you." With that, Rit left Civ alone to her own fowl mood.

**Author Comments: Angst, angst, angst...But the next chapter will be more fluffy! :D**


	12. Kittens: They Make Everything Better

"She truly is amazing," Mace laughed, watching as Quicksilver tried to capture a beam of light he shone upon the wall and moved as she got closer. "Look at that! She puts her paw right through it and doesn't even realize that light is immaterial!"

"She's a primal creature," Roxanne said, beaming as she watched the kitten jump up and down, claws extended. "She's practicing to hunt, like vendadire cubs. When we let her outside she'll bring us back dead creatures."

"How did you even get clearance to keep her?" Mace asked, wide-eyed with awe. "I've been trying to get a chiffling from the time I was three, but no matter how many times I apply, they keep denying the request!"

"I guess they kind of had to," Roxanne said with a shrug. "She's as endangered as they get; the last of her kind. And for all anyone knew when I came here, I had as good a memory as any Cerulean and had spent my life getting attached to her."

"Do you?" Mace asked, dropping the light and allowing Quicksilver to catch it.

"No," Roxanne answered, pulling at her bandaging. The knife had cut right across her palm, and she was beginning to bleed through. It was uncomfortable, and if she didn't want to stain her room with crimson liquid, she'd have to change it soon, but she didn't want to get up. "I can't remember anything from before I was three or four." Her voice was soft, but she wasn't stuttering, and her answers were straightforward. After all, she didn't believe in lies.

"Interesting," Mace contemplated, stroking his small beard. "And you're fifteen? How old is she?"

"Fourteen," Roxanne answered before her face fell a little. "She's getting old."

"Fourteen isn't that old!" Mace laughed.

"It is for her," Roxanne said. "She's so small and frail. Her biological clock is ticking, and she hasn't much time left. I think they lived much shorter lives." Mace's face fell as well.

"It's a sad thing to contemplate," he answered in hushed tones. Roxanne nodded.

"It's a sad fact that all things die, and some die before others. Quicksilver!" she called, clicking her tongue and rubbing the thumb and forefinger of her right hand together. "Here, kit-kit-kit-kitten! Quicksilver!" Mace turned the light so that it landed near Roxanne, and Quicksilver changed direction, arching her back as Roxanne ran her hand down her back and purring as Roxanne scratched behind her ears.

Mace watched as Roxanne cooed at the creature, and, ever in the background, Minion floated to the top of his bowl to see. Gilda just watched from the center of her own bowl. She didn't need to get close to know how Quicksilver would react. Instead she dwelled on what the kitten's loss would mean. When they were young, Quicksilver had tried several times to eat her, but after she'd actually managed to get at her and ended up with a large gash in one of her forelegs, there hadn't been any more attempts. Gilda hated to think that the kitten wouldn't live as long as Roxanne and her. She'd taken a liking to the creature, and Roxanne had most certainly grown attached.

"Beautiful," Mace murmured, and Roxanne smiled again.

"Isn't she?" Mace just nodded, unspeaking as he watched them interact. After a time, he said,

"I apologize for Krut's behavior."

"It's not your fault," Roxanne said. "It's not really his either, I guess. I think he thought he was being nice."

"Yes, well, I still feel a need to apologize. It was my fault that I had not informed him earlier of your roots, and perhaps he would have been more understanding if…" Mace trailed off as Roxanne looked up and laughed softly.

"You're flustered," she said, seeing the expression on his face and the purple splashed across it.

"I think I've a right to be. Your meeting with Krut was about as close to complete disaster as you'll find on Cerul."

"Just pet Quicksilver," Roxanne ordered, picking the red kitten up and depositing her in Mace's lap, causing him to flinch involuntarily. "She makes everyone feel better."

Their time together came to a close as a knock sounded at the door. Mace bade a quiet farewell and touched his head to hers. "I'd like to see you again," he said gently as they withdrew from contact. "Will you be available at lunch tomorrow for conversation between you, myself, Minion, and Gilda?"

"S—sure," Roxanne said, blushing as she agreed to the arrangement. "Of—of course!"

"Then I shall see you then!" he exclaimed, and he and Minion left the room with a nod of the head as Isst entered, looking thoroughly surprised to see them come trouncing out of the room. After a moment, Isst shut the door behind her, then thought a moment, and reopened it.

"Gilda," she said softly, "could I speak with Roxanne privately for a moment?" It wasn't a question, and Gilda obeyed, shutting the door behind her and standing out in the hall to wait, her fingers moving anxiously.

"Roxanne," Isst said, seating herself on her daughter's bed. Roxanne pulled herself up beside her, but looked away and said nothing. The area around Isst's eyes were purple and puffy, and Roxanne felt suddenly awful. She didn't think she'd ever made her mother cry before!

But another part of her was still slightly bitter. Why should Isst be upset that she wanted to be Cerulean? Shouldn't her mother be happy that she wasn't obsessing over a culture that had been dead for well over ten years?

"Roxanne," Isst repeated, setting a hand on her daughter's head and beginning to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry." This was not what Roxanne had expected, and she looked up in surprise. Isst smiled wryly. "I know that's not what you expected to hear. What you expected was to be chided or made to apologize, correct?" Roxanne nodded.

"Well, I'm not going to make you apologize for telling the truth," Isst said. "But I'm also going to reprimand you, because it doesn't do a child any good to make their mother cry." Roxanne gave her own small smile, and Isst opened her arms. Roxanne obediently fell into them, allowing her mother to hug her and stroke her hair while she spoke.

"I'm sorry that you can't be Cerulean," Isst said gently. "If I could make it any other way, if there were some sort of pill that turned you into a perfectly average, normal Cerulean, I would get it for you in a heat-beat, no matter what the cost or the damage it would cause me or anyone around you. But that doesn't exist, darling. You weren't born Cerulean, and that's that.

"But you should be proud that you weren't born Cerulean," she added. "You should be proud to be the last living human. You remember that note they sent with you in your pod?"

"How could I forget it," Roxanne asked, point to the spot above her door where the contents of the note had been etched into the wall.

"Well, that's sort of the point," Isst said with an amused smile. "You see right there?" Roxanne nodded. "'Your Destiny is our Legacy,'" Isst read. "And that's exactly what it is. Whatever life you lead, that's how the entirety of the human race is going to be remembered. You should be proud of that. And you should respect that your Father and I decided to keep your name the way it was, not just because your birth parents gave it to you, not just because it's one of very few names we know of from your planet, and not just because it means what it does. We chose to keep your first the name the way it is because we loved the sound of the name. It's beautiful, just like you are.

"And you can deny it all you like behind closed doors and with anyone else, but do inot/i tell me that you aren't beautiful. It isn't a traditional sense of beauty, but sometimes you need to say, 'to ferr with tradition' and forget it. You're beautiful, inside and out. You've got a good complexion, you've got a full figure, and you're intelligent and caring."

"I have hair," Roxanne pointed out.

"I think it's beautiful," Isst proclaimed. "I think it's sad that we've evolved to a point where we don't have any need for hair. But the planet keeps getting warmer, and before we know it, we'll have evolved out of eyebrows and facial hair, and then where'll we be?"

"The day men give up their facial hair is the day the Overlord's line dies out, the dead walk among the living, and Deldja says a kind word to anyone," Roxanne said, rolling her eyes, and Isst laughed. Quicksilver leaped onto the bed with a "mrrow," and Roxanne couldn't help but add, "See? Quicksilver agrees!" Isst laughed harder and Roxanne joined her, and when Mother and Daughter finally settled down, they were on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, painted to an exact scale replica of the sky the night Roxanne landed. One of the stars was inked in red, for that was where Roxanne hailed from. She hated that star, but she declined from saying so.

"Don't you think I could, just maybe, shave my head?" Roxanne asked hopefully.

"When you're seventeen, if you still wanted to go bald, you can," Isst allowed. "But until then you're still legally a child, and I get to impose my will on you, and I here verily decree that no, you cannot. But," she said, sitting up, "I ido/i supposed it could do with a cut. It's gotten rather long these past few years, now hasn't it?" Roxanne smiled, and Isst stood up, beckoning her onwards. "Come on, little miss Aida," she said with a wink, "let's go get the cutting tools. We'll cut it any way you like it but bald."

"Then I want it short," Roxanne commanded as they left the room and were joined by Gilda. "But if I have to keep it I guess it would look better if it was still long enough to hang…"

**Author Comments: D'aaawww! :D Told you it'd be fluffy! ^^ Enjoy!**

**Vandadire: Some sort of cat-like creature  
>Chiffling: Puppy<strong>


	13. Out To Lunch

All eyes were cast to the table in the back corner of the lunch room the next day. Some tried to be surreptitious, others tried not to look at all, but their eyes kept being drawn to that back table. They would trail off mid-sentence as their eyes shifted, tune out their friends by accident, or somehow manage to drop what they were holding back onto their tray.

It was strange; it was an anomaly; their eyes _had_ to be tricking them! Why would Mace Mind be sitting with Aida? He was the most popular boy in school, and she was…_human._ They weren't even in the same class, so it wasn't like they could be collaborating on a school project. It just didn't make sense!

But, for once, Roxanne wasn't paying attention to the other eyes focused on her. The only eyes she really noticed were the bright green ones belonging to the Cerulean sitting across from her. He was going on about one of the things he was planning to invent, a trash disintegrator that was better for the planet than the current system and realigned the odor molecules upon combustion to release a pleasant scent, rather than a fowl one. He was very animated, very excited about it, and she could see why. He planned on making it portable, which would mean that it could be kept in every Cerulean home, eliminating the need for the large, oversized machines that made their rounds every other day to collect trash.

"The problem is," he went on," that if I could get it all to work, work out all the bugs, and start working on a getting patent, the corporation that controls the trash collectors will try to buy me out."

"Why would they do that?"

"The product would be a threat to their own company; it'd probably put them out of business, and they don't want that. So they'd buy the product at just about any cost to make sure it doesn't hit the market."

"But isn't that sort of good?" Roxanne asked. "For you, I mean." She'd finally found her voice, and while it was quiet and soft, it was firm and unwavering. She didn't care what Gilda said; In theory, probability had nothing to do with past results, and while the probability was high that Mace would somehow turn on her (he was so much better than her; how could he not?), she was willing to trust that he wouldn't. It was probably stupid of her, but she was a stupid creature. It came with being human.

Mace shook his head. "Not really. If you do so, you're selling out, and I'd rather not. The purpose of inventing things that could catapult us into the future is to enhance life—like the minion suits," he said, patting Minion's arm. "I didn't create Minion's suit to get rich—my family already has enough wealth to last centuries—I did it to help him move around better. The money was sort of like an afterthought."

"So just don't sell out."

"I don't plan to, but it might be difficult not to. The company would probably find a way to take me to court on the issue…" he trailed off, then shook his head. "Anyway, I've spent far too much time speaking. What would you like to talk about?" Roxanne pulled her head back in surprise.

"Me?" she squeaked. "I—I—What do you want to talk about?" Mace laughed.

"Come now, surely you're interested in something you'd like to converse about? Science? Animals? Politics?"

"I—I plan to be a reporter when I'm older," she said, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear. It had been cut short, one side longer than the other, and it hung in her face and threatened to get in her eyes, but Roxanne liked the way it looked. It made her look just a little bit more normal to have it shorter, and the way it was styled made her eyes stand out.

"Really?" Mace asked, leaning forward. "What kind of reporter? Public, private, holographic wave projector?..."

"No," Roxanne said, shaking her head and disrupting her hair as her hands went to grip her seat. "I could never be on HWP. No one would ever take me seriously. No one would ever _hire_ me. I just plan to work for a daily news print station. No one would ever have to know what I am."

"Really? I think you'd be excellent as a Visio-audio reporter. What do you think, Minion?"

"I agree," Minion said immediately, smiling brightly. "I have a feeling that you and Gilda would be able to get the scoop on just about anything." Gilda cast wary eyes on the minion opposite her, but the fish named for his occupation smiled back warmly, and she felt somehow at ease. Still, she wasn't just going to let her guard down completely. Roxanne shook her head, picking at her food.

"Regardless of how good a reporter I'd be, you generally don't really tune into the news segment for news when there's a female reporter. Men do it to see the pretty women and other women do it to compare themselves or make themselves feel better by tearing down the little things that make the reporter so pretty. I haven't got anything. They wouldn't hire me, no matter how good a reporter I was, because I don't fit the picture.

"Journalism is better anyway," she added as an afterthought, as if to pretend she hadn't said anything before that. "People don't throw things at you." Mace and Minion shared a look before Mace reached over and patted Roxanne's hand. She flinched, sending her fork flying backward, then winced. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, but Mace didn't hear her over his own words.

"Don't worry," he told her, glaring behind him at all the people staring. Most of them immediately looked away, though the eyes of Deldja and Flooze stayed situated on them, paying no mind to courtesy or even the appearance of it. "I'll make sure no one throws anything at you," he finished, looking back to her. His usually smiling face was serious and slightly distraught. Roxanne's heart fluttered and her voice stuck in her throat as she realized that he hadn't withdrawn his hand. She blushed, slowly pulling her own hand out from under his and setting it in her lap with the other. She knew he wouldn't have kept it there on purpose—no one really liked to touch her.

"I—Thank you," she said, trying to find a way to express her gratitude and her misgivings at the same time. "But there is still this afternoon before we've our three days of rest and recuperation, and after that comes a new week of school. Your heroic act was greatly appreciated—you've no idea how much it has meant, really—but it will be forgotten by the time school resumes."

"Then I'll yell at them again," Mace said, his face creasing in remembered fury. "And if that doesn't work, I'll do it again. And if I have to, I'll resort to violence. No one should be bullied, especially to the depths you have! It's not right, and I won't stand for it. Hey!" he exclaimed, his expression becoming excited again. He looked adorable, and Roxanne blushed and look down again, biting her lip as she tried not to smile. "I've got a meeting with the leader of the 16th Wave news segment tomorrow! I'm supposed to be explaining one of my newer inventions, and I could put in a good word for you, if you wanted!"

"That would be very kind of you," Roxanne said. "But that would be lying. You haven't observed any of my work."

"Oh," Mace said, realizing that she was right. "Well, then I fully ent—intend to fix that!" he said, smacking his fist into his palm with determination on his face. "Do you think I could come over tonight to see you in action?" Roxanne looked up, shock spreading across her face like egg yolk across a smooth surface.

"I—I don't know," she said. She looked suddenly terrified. "I—I've never shown anyone my work before, and I—I—" Roxanne's eyes turned pleadingly to Gilda. "What do you think, Gilda?" Gilda thought for a moment. She knew Roxanne wanted her to tell her that she shouldn't let them come, to give her an out, but a minion was supposed to look after their Master's best interest, not just provide them with what they wanted…

"I think," Gilda said slowly, not looking at Roxanne to avoid her silent begging, "that you should. Visio-audio reporters are better known and have a higher amount of prestige and income, and I think it would be good for you."

"Excellent!" Mace exclaimed, leaping up and subsequently tumbling over backward after getting his feet tangled up in the legs of the seat. "I'm fine," he said quickly as he swiftly climbed back up, crouching on the floor and poking his head up over the tabletop with a smile. "Minion and I will be there," he promised as he got his feet back under him and sat himself back down. Roxanne smiled nervously. She still looked scared, like a small mammal caught in the headlights of a hovercycle.

"O—OK," Roxanne said with a nod. "I'll—I'll make sure to have something ready," she promised.

"Wonderful! Minion and I can't wait, right Minion?"

"Yes, Sir!" Minion chirped in agreement.

"That reminds me," Mace said almost randomly, forehead scrunched in thought, "and please, don't ask me how it reminds me, because I've no idea—but I forgot to tell you that I love what you have done with your hair." If Roxanne was stunned before, now she was absolutely shocked.

"R—Really?" Roxanne asked, touching her head and resisting the urge to hide her face as it turned practically scarlet. Mace nodded, opening his mouth as if to say more, when the bell rang. He looked up, growling as if there were someone to blame for cutting him off, but then he sighed and touched heads with Roxanne before they left.

Roxanne felt lighter than air and as heavy as Neutronium at the same time as she walked away. He'd said he liked her hair—her _hair,_ the part of her _she wasn't supposed to have!_

But now she had to give him a report.

A_ live _report.

_In person._

She was _doomed._

**Author Comments: **

**Here's some interesting and perhaps useful information:  
>Visio-audio is visual-audio; sight and sound.<br>The Holographic Wave Projector (HWP) is like Television.  
>A Segment is like a show.<br>A Wave is like a channel.  
>The daily news print is sort of like a newspaper in Harry Potter—some of the pictures move, and the prints are made of super-thin, super-small, digital materials that are recycled everyday to print new ones, and every issue everywhere ever is stored in a database.<br>The Cerulean week has eleven days. Students go to school for eight days and then take three days off for the weekend.  
>Neutronium is a metal found in the remains of dead stars. It's so dense that one square inch of the stuff on the Earth would drop right through to the core, breaking through anything in its way. (Why yes, I am a dork! XDXD) :F<strong>

You could say I have too much time on my hands to have thought all of this up. But then, I never seem to have much time to spare these days.

**Edit: Thanks to elthfrae for corrections! :D**


	14. Aida's Fire

"This is Aida Cerebellum, signing off," Roxanne finished, setting her papers down and taking a deep breath as she looked up. Mace and Minion applauded lightly, and Roxanne blushed.

"That was excellent!" Mace exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "I don't see why you'd have any doubts about yourself, really; I hadn't even realized the city's King had resigned for any particular reason. I thought he was simply overcome by the pape-arwork!"

"Well, that's kind of what he wanted people to think," Roxanne answered, pushing her hair behind her ear and not making eye contact with anyone present. "It's kind of scandalous to have an entire second family no one wants to admit is there, so he paid everyone off to make sure no one knew."

"How did you get all this information then?" Mace asked, coming up to Roxanne's desk and shuffling through her papers.

"Mostly I just do research," she admitted, backing away and keeping her head down. "But sometimes I like to go out and do field research, and usually people are so stunned or scared by my appearance that they answer all of my questions for a good five to fifteen minutes without realizing they're doing it." Mace laughed.

"Well, that's one way to put xenoism to use! And you've _never_ showed _any_ of your work to anyone before?" He looked up and Roxanne shook her head. "You haven't even sent anything in to the local print?" Again, she shook her head. "Well," he announced, "I think you're missing out here, dear Aida, and more over, I think the world is missing out! How long have you been at this?"

"Since I was little," Roxanne admitted.

"And you just file all of these reports away for yourself?"

"Yes."

"I have a hard time believing that any Wave wouldn't want this kind of quality on st—" The door burst open suddenly and Reptung charged in.

"Aha!" he cried. "I caught y—" He stopped suddenly, realizing he hadn't caught either of them doing anything. For being two years older than Roxanne, he often acted like he was two years younger, and her face burned with embarrassment as his own started to tint purple. After a moment of confusion, Mace waved and smiled.

"Hello!" he greeted, and Reptung began backing out of the room very slowly, turning more and more violet with the second.

"Hi," he mumbled before turning, dashing out, and slamming the door behind him.

"What exactly was that about?" Minion asked, voicing both his and Mace's thoughts at the same time. Roxanne sat down and buried her face in her hands.

"He thinks I'm brainwashing you," she mumbled. Mace and Minion shared a look before simultaneously bursting out laughing.

"That's preposterous!" Mace exclaimed, setting a hand on Roxanne's shoulder. "I can see how Reptung might be fooled, since for someone like you it probably wouldn't take much effort to brainwash the masses, but really—"

"What do mean, 'someone like me?'" Roxanne demanded suddenly, looking up sharply with eyes that could cut. Mace blushed a little as he realized what he'd just said.

"I—I didn't mean it like that," he promised, holding his hands out in 'calm down' fashion. "I swear, I just—"

"Then how _did_ you mean it?" Gilda demanded, moving behind Roxanne as the girl stood up. Mace gulped, and Minion was soon at his side as well.

"Yes," Roxanne growled. She doubted anyone but Gilda and perhaps her Mother had ever seen her this angry, but she didn't really care. "How does 'someone like me' brainwash the masses without effort?" she demanded.

"I swear I didn't mean it like that!" Mace reiterated. "I didn't mean someone like you as someone like you, I just meant someone like you like—"

"Like how?" Gilda spat. It was Mace's turn to have his face burn, violently violet with embarrassment.

"Hey now," Minion said, setting his robotic hands on Mace's shoulders with an icy look in the direction of the girls. "Let Sir speak. I'm sure he didn't mean to offend anyone, right Sir?"

"Of course not!" Mace exclaimed, pulling away from Minion so that he could gesticulate better. "I—I just meant that, well, with the way you look, I wouldn't be surprised if—"  
>"The way I <em>look?<em>" Roxanne shouted, glaring up at Mace and jabbing a finger into his chest with every word she spoke. "Just because I look different doesn't mean that I can brainwash people, _Mr. Mind!_ I may be an alien, but I'm not going to try to intimidate people with my alien appearance, and, furthermore—"

"That wasn't what I meant!" Mace insisted. "I just—You're very—There's a certain—" he stammered as Roxanne backed off, waiting for him to have his say with a hard look on her face. "I find you to—There—" Mace finally threw his hands up in defeat. His face had never been so purple in all his life, and finding that he couldn't quite grasp any of the words necessary, Mace turned and hid behind Minion, pushing him forward with both hands and shouting, "Minion has a crush on Gilda!"

"Sir!" Minion shouted turning his fish body around to stare down at his master, and had it not been anatomically impossible for fish to blush, Minion would have been bright red all over. Gilda looked taken aback, and Roxanne was nonplussed. She had no idea how to reply to that, and shared a shocked look with Gilda. A silent message seemed to pass between them, and they decided not to drop the issue.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Roxanne demanded.

"Well it would have absolutely nothing to do with anything if it weren't for the fact that Ceruleans and their minions are mindlinked and all of that sciency goodness but it's currently impertanent and we must be going now goodbye!" Mace shouted all in one breath as he dashed out the door, crashed into Reptung, and continued on his way while Minion chased after him. Reptung stood up from the floor, dusting himself off and muttering curses before turning his attention to his sister and smirking at her.

"Looks like there's trouble in paradise, hm?" Roxanne frowned and stuck her tongue out at her brother before slamming the door in his face and throwing herself onto her bed in a huff, covering her eyes with the crook of her elbow.

"That went well," she said, sarcasm surrounding the words like gelatin around sliced fruit.

"It could have gone worse," Gilda allowed, her mind a jumble from the whole ordeal.

"Yeah," Roxanne snorted. "Right. My brother burst in like some kind of paparazzi, I got insulted by the only person outside my family who's ever been really and truly _kind_ to me, and I exploded all over Mace _freaking_ Mind. Yeah, it _totally_ could have been worse."

"Well, you don't have to get snippy about it," Gilda lectured. Roxanne uncovered one eye to look up at her minion.

"You sound like my Mother," she groused, then smiled and covered her face again.

"Do you still like him?" Gilda asked, feeling it was a question that needed to be asked. Roxanne's face turned red all over again.

"Yes," she admitted. "I do. I shouldn't, but I can't help it. Is it bad that I thought it was the most adorable thing, the way he got so flustered when I started yelling at him?"

"Yes," Gilda answered solemnly. "You're a terrible person and deserve to hang."

"Oh, shove off!" Roxanne half-laughed, sitting up and pushing at Gilda's furry arm. Then came her own chance to ask questions. "You like Minion?" she asked. Gilda got that same "if-fish-could-blush" look on her face that Minion had had, but she shrugged, trying not to let her Mistress notice.

"It doesn't matter how I feel about anyone," Gilda answered. "All that matters is how you feel."

Mace and Minion raced out of the Cerebellum household, Mace leading the way down the front path, ignoring Isst as she looked up from where she was tending to the garden she kept in the front of the house and waved. Soon they were running on the marble roadways that paved the majority of Cerul, barely ducking a hovercycle before Mace left the beaten path and dove into a familiar forest that he knew would take him home twice as quickly as the road.

After Mace and Minion were about halfway home, Mace slowed to a halt, gasping for breath and leaning against a tree. Minion was also breathing hard when he caught up to his boss, having had to concentrate hard on moving quickly and not falling over. Mace's lungs screamed as he gasped for breath. He should have tried out for the running team. He was pretty damn good at it, if he did say so himself.

"That went smoothly," Minion pointed out sarcastically. Mace glared at him, but didn't say a word. The fish was right. It had gone terribly.

**Author comments: **

**Things go well...And then they go terribly. -.-**

**Edit: Where Mace says his spiel all in one breath, it was SUPPOSED to be all written together without spaces, but Fanfiction does not seem to allow that...Hm...*Shrugs* Oh well.**


	15. ElectroShock Therapy

"How was your day?" Mendje asked, kissing the top of Mace's head as he entered the kitchen with Minion. A quick look around the room told him that someone had been experimenting with cooking again. The walls around the stove were blackened, and most of the ceiling had been covered with a thick, purple goop. He guessed it was Idna—Idna had always had a thing for purple.

"It went very well," Mace said enthusiastically. Then he frowned. "Then it went turri—tarri—Fargon, it went _terribly!_"

"Watch your tongue, Mace!" Mendje scolded, then gave the teenager a hug. "Don't upset yourself, sweetheart. It only makes it worse. Now, tell me what happened," she added, picking up a plate full of cookies and offering it first to Mace and then to Minion. They both declined.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Mace answered, seating himself at the table and pulling a small black bag from his pocket. Minion was quick to hand him a glass of water, which Mace set aside. He turned the bag upside down, dumping tiny blue cubes onto the tabletop. He studied each of them, growled something about labeling, and started dropping a tiny amount of water onto each. Mendje just watched as the cubes exploded, one-by-one, into a number of various school materials.

A dehydrating beam had been one of the first things Mace had invented, finishing the design when he was four and perfecting the early version when he was five. He had more recently reworked the beam so that the glowing blue cubes were smaller and easier to transport.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Mendje prompted as Mace found the notebook he was looking for and flipped to a page already filled up with sketches and scribbled notes to himself.

"Positive," Mace answered. "Tell me about your trip back to Crypt. How was it?"

"Alright," Mendje sighed, then launched into a quick summary of what had happened. "The trip was alright," she answered. "There was a great deal of traffic on the way over, and a comet was reported in the vicinity, so we could only go half the speed of light."

"I wondered why you weren't home this morning," Mace put in, turning to a fresh blank page and beginning to sketch something out. He was good at multitasking.

"Mhm," Mendje agreed. "But, like I said, it was relatively pleasant. I think Krut must have taken quite a shine to Aida," Mendje added with a smile. "He went on about their six-minute conversation for a good ninety minutes before his parents finally got him to switch topics. What did I tell you?" Mace looked increasingly aggravated as Mendje went on, pressing his pencil hard into the paper as he tried to focus on his sketch.

"He claimed that she was a lot better looking than any of the girls he knows from back home, and even started talking about wanting to come back and visit. I think that girl might just have a good chance at becoming the next Queen of Crypt, and—"

Mace's pencil snapped, and he stood quickly, nearly shouting, "I'm going upstairs!" Mendje watched in slight confusion as Mace swept all of his things together and headed out the door. She set her hands on her hips and gave Minion a look.

"What has gotten into that boy?" she asked the green fish. Minion just shrugged before heading up after him. Mendje shook her head. The only answers that both Minion and Mace never seemed to have were the ones about her son.

Roxanne spent the rest of her day doing what she usually did on the last day of the week—homework, followed by playing cards with Gilda before settling in for the night.

She spent the next day helping Isst in the garden and drawing in her room. The day seemed incredibly dull, more so than usual, and she tried her best not to regret what had happened the day before. It wasn't _her_ fault that no one could see her as Cerulean—besides the fact that she was an alien, at least. And she'd known he would have just played some kind of prank on her or something, so she shouldn't really be upset. But she was. And she still had the biggest crush on him.

Roxanne didn't really look forward to going back to school once the next week began, but she knew she had to. But she still had today and two days more before she had to go back, so there was that.

She expected that Mace would be back to ignoring her by then.

Roxanne and Gilda were woken late that night by a loud thump on the wall. Roxanne was quick to launch herself out of bed and scramble to the window, Gilda's portable sphere tucked under her arm. They didn't even bother asking questions, because they both knew the other had no answers, and what good are questions that just serve to waste time?

They looked left as they threw open the window, then right, then up, and finally down, shocked and afraid to see a shadowy figure lying face-down on the ground. "Who's there?" Roxanne demanded sharply, glaring down at the shape. A groan floated up to the two of them, and Gilda and Roxanne shared wary looks as the shape stood, brushing dirt from its clothes.

"It's just me!" a familiar voice called up, and Roxanne pulled back in surprise before leaning over the window ledge.

"Mace!" she hissed. "What are you doing down there?"

"I missed," he answered simply, as if it explained everything.

"What?"

"I missed," Mace repeated, and Roxanne gasped as he shot straight up into the air, slowing as he drew up to the window.

"How are you doing that?" Roxanne demanded, her curiosity getting the better of her. "You aren't wearing a jetpack!"

"They're prototypes!" Mace exclaimed, drawing one of his feet up and pointing at the boot with the forefinger of each hand. The heel sparked and flared, and Mace was blown back, waving his arms wildly to try and gain control. Roxanne covered her mouth with a hand to keep herself from laughing.

He was back in a moment, this time grabbing onto the ledge to keep himself steady. "What are you doing here?" Gilda demanded, and Roxanne nodded to show her own interest in the answer to that question.

"It's already past midnight," the girl added, checking the clock on their wall.

"I have good news!" Mace exclaimed in a hushed cry. "I talked to the people at the 16th Wave, and they want to run your story!"

"What?" Roxanne exclaimed, stepping back.

"Yes!" Mace agreed, grinning from ear to ear as he tapped his heels together, deactivating the boots before he pulled himself up and over the ledge. He fell to the floor and scrambled back up onto his feet. Roxanne's heart fluttered. "I told them how wonderfully you did—and I may have accidentally forgotten not to turn on the Visio-audio recorder installed in my watch—and they said they want to film you doing the story a month from now!"

_"What?" _Roxanne repeated, eyes like saucers. Mace nodded enthusiastically.

"They said that they've been looking for more information on what made King Araust leave, and that there couldn't be anything more real, shocking, or crowd-pleasing than having the alien that wrote it pitch it!" Roxanne stared straight ahead. Her eyes hurt from being open so long and wide. She was absolutely _shocked._ There were no other words for it. Her head spun.

She was going to be on HWP. She was going to be on HWP! _She was going to be on HWP!_ She didn't even know what to think, or what to say! It was too surreal!

"This is a dream," she accused, backing up. "And before it even ends, I'm going to wake up, and it will be morning."

"It's not a dream," Mace assured her. "It's real! This is so exciting! Cerul's first alien reporter! And you aren't even legal! Well, no, that came out wrong," he said, creasing his forehead and starting to pace, shaking a finger in the air. "Not that you're illegal—I've no doubt that you've been legalized as a citizen of Cerul, but I mean that you aren't yet seventeen, and therefore cannot be considered an adult, and…" Roxanne and Gilda were barely paying attention.

"Wow," Gilda breathed at last, interrupting Mace's spiel and speaking Roxanne's mind as well as her own. The human nodded.

"Yeah." Mace was grinning again in a moment, and jumped all over himself as he seemed to remember something.

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh OH!" he shouted, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a silver object. He motioned for Roxanne's wrist, which she gave him willingly, and he strapped the object on. She pulled it closer to her face, studying it in the light of the double moons.

"A watch?" she asked. Mace nodded.

"Yes! It's a communication device as well as a watch," he informed her. "It's linked to the one I have, and I made it along with Minion's, so you'll be able to contact either one of us if you ever need help! And I also drew this up," he added, pulling a piece of paper from the opposite pocket and unfolding it quickly. "It's the designs for a robotic kitten," he explained quickly, turning it around to show it to Roxanne and Gilda. "I thought that if I could mimic Quicksilver's body and decrease her age by maybe five or six years, then download her brain into—"

The door slammed open and Mace barely had time to look up before he fell to the ground with a cry of pain, a thousand volts of electricity flowing through his body. Roxanne shrieked and stepped back, clutching Gilda and looking up. Loral stood in the doorway, holding an electric-shock gun in his hands.

"_What the Hell are you doing in my daughter's room, you blue ba_—Mace?" Loral asked in surprise, realizing who it was that was writhing on Roxanne's floor. Loral cursed as Isst came running up behind him, Civ and Rit not far behind.

"Roxanne, are you alright?" Isst asked, moving past her husband and wrapping her daughter into a protective hug before she even took note of the teenager who was slowly becoming still.

"I'm fine," Roxanne insisted.

"We're fine," Gilda agreed.

"Mace Mind, what in Ferr's name are you doing in Roxanne's room!" Loral demanded angrily.

"Aida and I were dis-_scoo_-sing her career," Mace slurred as he slowly regained control of his tongue. A stray volt ran through his body, causing him to jump again. Roxanne felt terrible about it, but she _had_ to giggle, if only softly. She had the sudden impression that if she had been the one getting shocked, her hair might have stood on end.

_"What?" _Loral demanded, and Isst pulled back to start fussing over Roxanne, who was, of course, still in her nightgown.

"Roxanne, are you sure you're all right? He didn't try to hurt you, did he?"

"What?" Roxanne asked. "No! He didn't hurt me!"

"Mr. Mind may be many things, but I doubt he's capable of causing my Mistress any harm," Gilda put in, surprising Roxanne a bit. She hugged the minion's globe tighter while Mace answered her father.

"I had an interview with the Ruler of Wave 16. I talked to them about Aida's reporting while I was there, and they said they want her to give a report next month."

"Well why in the world are you here at such an ungodly hour?" This time it was Isst who rounded on the boy as he stood up, her voice sharp and her features suddenly no less so. Mace grinned sheepishly.

"I didn't realize how late it was until Aida gave me the time?"

"Do your parents know where you are?" Loral demanded as Isst crossed her arms Roxanne stood off to the side, not sure whether she should be embarrassed for her parents' behavior or for Mace's.

"No," Mace admitted, lowering his head as his cheeks turned purple. "But Minion does!"

"Come with me," Loral huffed, motioning out the door as he turned. "I can only imagine what your parents are going to have to say about this—I have to say, I'm not looking forward to a discussion on the finer details of using an electro-shock gun on a teenager."

"Yes, Sir," Mace acquiesced, following Loral out the door with shame written all over his face.

"Honey, are you sure you're all right?" Isst asked again, the sharpness dropping from her face immediately as Rit entered the room, Civ staying outside.

"I'm fine," Roxanne insisted. "He wasn't trying to hurt me or anything. He just got overexcited, I guess?"

"Well, you never know," Isst said, hugging her daughter to her again, Gilda pressed between the two of them. "Especially with boys his age." Roxanne's face turned redder than Rit (who was quite red himself), and she could have died.

"Mom!" she exclaimed, Gilda's bowl bouncing to the ground, disorienting the fish and causing Rit to stoop over to pick the teenage fish up before the sphere could bounce and crack. "That's a terrible thing to insinuate about Mace! He's nice! And even if he wasn't, I'm…_Me._"

"It's the nice ones that get you at this age," Isst warned. "And that was _exactly_ my point. It's you, my beautiful, darling girl. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you, sweetheart. You keep yourself safe."

"I will, Mom," Roxanne promised, and before she could even add, "I promise," Mace came dashing back in the room. Roxanne could hear her father shouting and swearing behind him.

"I forgot," Mace said breathlessly, pressing his forehead to Roxanne's before scooping his paper up off the floor and shoving it into her hands and Loral came storming up the stairs. "Look this over," he said quickly. "I'll talk to you about it tomorrow. Bye!" With that he dashed off, and Roxanne could hear her father cursing as Mace shouted, "Sorry Mr. Cerebellum, I didn't mean any harm, I just—" _Crash!_ Roxanne and the minions winced.

"I think he used the banister," Roxanne said.

"There goes the seventh century vase," Civ groused crossly. Isst wasn't paying any mind to that, though. She was smiling at her daughter with a knowing look planted on her face.

"Not a friend, hm?" she questioned, alluding to Roxanne's statement from when her father had come home a few days ago. Even Roxanne's ears turned red this time, and she mumbled something unintelligible before pushing her mother out the door, barely giving her mother time to touch heads. She shut the door only to realize that Rit was still in the room, holding Gilda's sphere.

"Out," she ordered, opening the door and pointing. Rit smiled and brought Gilda's sphere up to the glass of his tank.

"Goodnight, Gilda," he bid, squishing his face up against the glass as Gilda did the same.

"Goodnight, Father," she bid in return, and Rit handed the sphere off to Roxanne as he left.

"May you have pleasant imaginings this evening, Miss Aida."

"Night, Rit." The door shut and Roxanne glanced down at the paper in her hand and then at her bed. She bit her bottom lip, hugging Gilda's sphere to her. "Well," she said slowly. "I really _should_ go to bed…But I wouldn't sleep anyway," she decided, carrying Gilda over to her desk and setting her down as she smoothed Mace's sketch out and began to read through the notes.

"You really should try to sleep," Gilda lectured, but it was a half-hearted attempt.

She was too interested in this sheet of paper to press her further.


	16. Only Human

When Roxanne tried to contact Mace on the watch he'd given her the night before, it quickly became apparent that he wasn't supposed to be talking to her. Or anyone, for that matter.

"Mace?" Roxanne had asked. "Are you there?"

"Aida!" Mace had exclaimed. "Listen, I can't talk right now, I'm supposed to be—"

_"Mace Mind, you let that girl alone!"_ a female voice had cut right through his statement.

"But she was the one who contacted me—"

"Give me the watch, Mace," the woman (Roxanne assumed it was Mendje, Mace's mother, for though she honestly couldn't recall ever having met the woman, she'd heard about her, and who _else_ could it have been?) said firmly.

"Mom," Mace had whined, "I'm not doing anything, I'm just—"

"Mace, we've gone over this at least a dozen times—you go bursting in through a girl's window like that an hour and a half past midnight, and there are consequences—you're grounded, and that means no HWP, no lab time, and no contact with anyone until you're back in school. The watch!" Roxanne felt sorry for Mace—she knew he wasn't trying to cause her harm or anything, and she was pretty sure everyone else knew that—but the woman did have a point.

"Bye Mace," she'd said quickly before either of them could deactivate the other watch.

"I'll talk to you at lunch when we return to school," Mace had promised before the line crackled and went dead. Roxanne sighed and flopped back onto her bed.

The rest of the weekend was the longest two days she'd ever lived through.

****Break****

"Holy Shnarblock!" Mace exclaimed as he and Minion sat down at the table, both of them unable to stop themselves from staring at the huge bruise on Roxanne's forehead that was quickly become a gonshedin egg. She tried to pull her hair over the spot, and looked quickly away in embarrassment. "How in the world did you get that?" Mace demanded, looking distraught.

"It's nothing," Roxanne mumbled. "I get them often."

"It doesn't matter how often you get them!" Mace huffed. "I want to know who did that and how so I can go give it to them with twice the vehemence!"

"Deldja threw her book at me during biology," she muttered, hunching down in her seat. "It's nothing."

_"Deldja,"_ Mace growled, standing up with his hands balled into fist. "I should have known, that…that…_creshnan!_" he spat, and turned as if to go and grab her. Minion and Roxanne were quick to grab him and pull him back into his seat, Roxanne practically begging him to let it be.

"It's nothing," she insisted. "It's just a bruise; it'll go away. I've had thousands before, and I'll have a thousand more before the year is through. It's nothing, really."

"The reason I gave you that watch was so that I could assist you whenever you needed help," Mace growled. "You could have contacted me, and I would have taken care of it!"

"You would have just gotten in trouble for ditching class and being violent without provocation!"

"Deldja hitting you in the head with a book _is_ provocation!"

"I don't _count!_ Roxanne hissed. Mace harrumphed, but he said nothing else. "I looked these over," Roxanne added shyly, pulling Mace's plans from one of her folders. "I really like it," she said, making sure not to look him in the eyes as she gave the sketches back. "It looks exactly like her, actually. You're a very good artist." Mace blushed a little and shrugged it off.

"I'm not _that_ good," he mumbled. "I'm fine as long as it's a plan or a schematic or something, but once I try to actually make any sort of art—" He wrinkled his nose. "It doesn't turn out so good. I have troo-trouble with my gross motor skills. But I'm glad you like it!" he added excitedly. "Would you want to go through with it?"

"It wouldn't be painful for Quicksilver, would it?" Roxanne asked tentatively.

"No," Mace assured her, "nothing like that! It wouldn't hurt anymore than it would hurt to get a kidney removed—less, even, since after she went under she'd wake up in an entirely new body and wouldn't feel an ounce of pain!"

"Would she be able to feel at all?" Roxanne asked warily. She didn't know how it would be to go through life unable to feel. Probably horrible. She wouldn't wish that on anyone, _especially_ her only fellow survivor.

"It would be a little difficult to craft artificial nerve endings for her," Mace admitted, then grinned. "But I'm always up for a challenge! And I did a little DNA profee—profiling," he corrected himself, "with a few of her hairs—sorry about that," he added as an afterthought, "—and she should live at least another three years if she doesn't consume any poisons or get herself killed, so we have plenty of time to work on it!" Roxanne smiled at both the thought and his enthusiasm.

"Thank you," she said, expressing her gratitude by squeezing his hand, quickly withdrawing it when he glanced down. "It's a really great idea. And I think…I think you could make a line of toys from it, too." Mace blinked and cocked his head.

"What's that now?"

"Well, if the finished product is how you plan it to be, it would be a robotic kitten—it would walk, jump, play, and sleep just like a normal kitten, but it wouldn't have to eat and children could play with it without fear of hurting it—if you didn't add nerve endings in the toy version, that is—and it would be a guarantee that Quicksilver wouldn't die off! Even if the toys aren't alive, they'd still be kittens, and every child on Cerul would want one, and they'd live forever!" Her eyes shone with raw passion, and she was practically breathless in her excitement. "She wouldn't have to be the last of her kind! And even after I'm long dead and gone, there will still be a part of Earth left alive; my destiny won't _have_ to be their legacy, because Quicksilver will be able to do it instead!"

"I honestly only understood about three quarters of what you just said," Mace admitted, "but I'm excited! Are you really willing to allow me to craft a line of toys?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Roxanne answered. "It would be nothing short of amazing!"

"Huzzah!" Mace cried, leaping onto the table and starting to dance. For his klutzy nature, he was a surprisingly good dancer. But Roxanne still tried to hide her head under the table as people started to stare. Mace wouldn't have that, though, and pulled her up onto the tabletop with him. She could have died from embarrassment, but…It felt really, _really_ good to have Mace's hands on her waist for that split second where he'd picked her up and twirled her around.

****Break****

After one of the lunchroom chaperones had come over to tell them to settle down and get back to eating before they were sent to the Overlord's office, Mace and Roxanne settled back into their seats. Mace's keen eyes picked up on something as Roxanne smoothed out her dress, and he grabbed her wrist before she could pull her sleeve back down. "What is that?" he asked sharply, pointing at a second bruise on her arm. "Did Deldja do that, too? I swear, the next time I see her I will give her _such_ a piece of my mind!"

"It wasn't Deldja," Roxanne admitted as he released her, smoothing out the sleeve and looking down again. "It was a kid in the halls. I didn't see who it was. Probably no one I know, anyway."

"That's it!" Mace said, standing straight up with his palms flat on the table. "Mignon, bring up my schedule."

"Yes, Sir," the fish agreed, pressing a button on his suit. A beam of light shot out of a hole just beneath the button, and projected a screen into the air in front of Mace. Mace looked at it quizzically before glancing back at Aida.

"Can I see a copy of your schedule?" he asked, and Gilda was quick to do the same as Minion had done. Mace sized the two schedules up before using his finger to write in new entries above every class he took. He smiled as he finished. "Save file," he ordered Minion, and in a moment, the screen was gone. "There!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in a triumphant and "job-well-done" manner.

"What did you change?" Roxanne asked.

"I now have myself scheduled to walk you to your classes—that way if anyone tries something, I'm there to stop it."

"You don't have to do that," Roxanne said quickly. "You'll only make yourself late to your classes!"

"I won't be late," Mace said, shaking his head. "Minion and I know this school like the back of our hands. Our record is getting from History to Cerulean in 19.22 seconds. Besides," he added with a smile, "I want to make sure you're safe." Roxanne blushed and averted her gaze yet again. The bell rang before she could think up any coherent answer, and when Mace touched her forehead, she found herself irritated with herself for not being able to make that same connection everyone else had. Maybe if she could, she could finally express the sheer magnitude of the gratitude she felt.

But she was only human.

**A gonshedin egg is a goose-egg.  
>Mace is such a sweetheart. ^^ I love that guy.<br>Dear GOODNESS, this fic is going to be long! O.o XDXD**


	17. Mr Brightside

That week, Roxanne found herself with more attention than she'd ever had—well, more _positive_ attention than she'd ever received in school. Mace walked her to all her classes, ate lunch with her, and nearly every day after school, he came over to speak with her or to play with Quicksilver.

The last day of that week, he invited her to his home to see the progress he'd made on the robotic version of Quicksilver.

All week, Roxanne felt all eyes on her as she walked through the halls, heard whispers and snickers, and in class things were no different from before.

Except for Deldja.

Because Deldja, her most prominent tormentor, was silent. She glared at Roxanne constantly, whispered and snickered with Flooze, but she never said a word to Roxanne, and she didn't lift a finger against her. She simply sat back and whispered with her friends, and Roxanne felt increasingly uneasy, because Deldja never ignored.

She only plotted.

***Break***

All week, Mace would glance down at his watch at random times, and sometimes he would answer with excitement and giddiness galore as Roxanne spoke to him. But other times he would glance down, see the image flashing at him from the watch face, and turn the watch off altogether.

Every day after school, Mace would come home from school and head upstairs, putting things in order before he headed off to the Cerebellum household. He would sit down briefly on his bed as he fiddled with the laces of his boots (the rockets and flight stabilizers installed in the heels messed with the self-tying function of the things, and he was still working on getting the two functions to work together), and heave a sigh as the communication function on the watch would go off.

On Grustday, Mace had actually answered that signal. It had been Krut, and Mace answered casually, like he always had done. He'd given Krut a communications device years ago so that their families could easily contact one another, and Mace had synced up the watch and Krut's device when Krut had most recently come for a visit.

"Salutations, Prince of Crypt," Mace greeted, and Krut answered with his own favorite,

"Hey."

"Is there a purpose to your call?" Mace asked, and Krut was quick to answer.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you could somehow get that one girl—the one…Oh, what's her name…" The sound of snapping fingers carried through the crystal-clear lines. Even light-years away, there was not so much as a scratch or hum or skip in the sound quality. Mace was proud of that, and he knew that if Krut focused his hearing, the older boy's far-reaching senses would most likely be able to pick up on just about everything that moved inside his house just from the tiny speakers that lay within the watch.

But Mace wasn't thinking about that, just then, because he was focused on the sinking feeling in his gut. _Please say Deldja,_ he found himself wishing. _Please, please, __**please**__ say Deldja…_

"Ada? No!" Krut exclaimed. "Aida! That was her name!"

"Why do you want to talk to Aida?" Mace asked a little warily, looking toward the door to make sure Minion hadn't come sneaking in. He was off somewhere doing something. Mace hadn't asked what.

"I want to see about coming to visit h—"

"Oh…sssshhhhhhhhh," Mace said, making a crackling noise in the back of his throat, like static. "Something…sssshhhhhh…Marmalade…ssshhhhhh…Yellow?...sssshhhh…And there's a rat…Ssshhhh…"

"Mace?" Krut asked, and though his voice came through perfectly clear, Mace pretended that it did not.

"Can't…Ssshhhhh…Think…Sssshhhhh…Breaking…sssshhhh…Bye!" Mace shut the watch off completely.

The rest of the week he just refused to answer when he saw Krut's face flashing on the screen. He didn't want to acknowledge the big brute's existence. Calling him to talk to Aida. Who did he think he was? Who did he think _Mace_ was? He didn't like hearing Mendje talk about Aida and Krut, so he _certainly_ didn't want to hear Krut talk about it. Some of the kids at school were even whispering about seeing Aida and Krut meet, and how they were the cutest ugly couple on Cerul.

He had dehydrated the first person who tried to gossip about with him. Dag them! They had no right to talk about Aida and Krut as if they were a couple—the two had hardly even met! He'd been punished for it, but since the kid wasn't harmed any, it had only been a single detention session spent helping the custodian fix broken things around the school. Mace wasn't upset about the punishment, nor was he sorry about what he'd done—Reptung had had it coming!

**Author Comments:**

**FIRSTLY! I've previously mentioned that there are eleven days to a Cerulean week, and after careful consideration, I've decided to give them names! So, here you are:**

**Grustday: The first day of the schoolweek-the equivalent of Monday.**  
><strong><span>Wintday:<span> The second day of the week-the equivalent of Tuesday.**  
><strong><span>Grollday:<span> The third day of the week.**  
><strong><span>Fanadastday:<span> The fourth day of the week.**  
><strong><span>Kruleday:<span> The fifth day of the week-the equivalent of Wednesday.**  
><strong><span>Sttibastday:<span> The sixth day of the week.**  
><strong><span>Aldaday:<span> The seventh day of the week-the equivalent of Thursday.**  
><strong><span>Parndaday:<span> The eighth day of the week; last day of the schoolweek-the equivalent of Friday.**  
><strong><span>Nokinday:<span> The ninth day of the week; first day of the weekend-the equivalent of Saturday.**  
><strong><span>Nalinday:<span> The tenth day of the week.**  
><strong><span>Nafarday:<span> The eleventh day of the week; the last day of the weekend-the equivalent of Sunday.**

**Also, for future reference, I've decided that the Cerulean day is 36 hours long. In some parts of Cerul, they work in three twelve-hour cycles and military time goes up to 35:59, but in the area Mace and Roxanne reside within, they work in two cycles, like us, each eighteen hours long-eighteen o'clock is either high noon or midnight. I figure Ceruleans need less sleep and more at the same time-the average time allotted for sleep is twelve hours, but that's after a twenty-four hour period spent awake.**

**And the year, I think, will be more or less the same-I think the planet must be about as far away from its sun as Venus is from ours, maybe a little bit farther, but I also figure, being that they're so advanced, the species must be older, so that ties in with an older planet, an older planet system, and an older, weaker sun. The proximity to the sun makes the planet warm enough to allow the Ceruleans to evolve past hair (I really don't see what other explanation there could be for the species to be so close to completely without hair unless the planet is hot-or Megs' species is reptilian or something, which still wouldn't account for the facial hair, eyebrows, _or_ lack of scales (and if the sun is older and weaker, it would account for the water and life that is able to subsist therein, making the planet too hot for comfort without baldness, but not so hot as to end life as it is known to our small, weak-willed minds)), and it would, in theory, make the revolutions around the sun quicker than ours. But maybe Cerul has an irregular orbit, or revolves at a slower pace due to astronomical anomalies or complications.**  
><strong>While we're on that subject, Metro Man has hair, so I might as well go ahead and press upon you my theory that Crypt is about as far away from the sun as Earth, but maybe slightly closer, unless we are to assume (as a definitive) that Cerul is slightly farther from its sun than Venus is from ours, because I imagine the two are twin planets. Maybe once, when Crypt and Cerul were still very young, they were one and the same and were hit by some sort of giant asteroid, or another planet, and one went spinning in one direction and the other in another, and...I'm sorry, I'm just speaking aloud right now, rambling on.<strong>

**Goodness, I'm having FAR too much fun creating this world. And explaining it. XDXD, HAIL SCIENCE! XDXD.**


	18. Note To Self

"Dad, you know Aida," Mace said as he and Roxanne ran into Macklnn as they headed toward the lab.

"Aida," Macklnn greeted warmly, shaking her hand enthusiastically and with a warm smile that reminded her of Mace's.

"Greetings, Mr. Mind," Roxanne said shyly, smiling at the man. It had been a few months since he'd last checked up on her, but he looked mostly unchanged. "It's nice to see you."

"It's good to see you, as well, Aida," Macklnn said. "Mace," he went on, looking to his son, "have you seen Fid?" Mace snapped his fingers in front of Macklnn's eyes, and the man blinked in response. Mace smiled and hitched his thumb over his shoulder.

"I saw him headed that way," Mace answered. "I think he and Minion were going to show Gilda around while Aida and I are in the lab."

"Thank you. Just remember to wear goggles, especially you, Aida. Mendje would kill me if I let either of you go in without goggles," he muttered as he touched heads with the both of them and went off in search of Fid.

"What was that about?" Roxanne asked as Mace led her into a back hall and set his bare hand into a scanning pad. "The snapping I mean?" she imitated the action as she spoke of it.

"Dad blinds himself a lot in the lab," Mace answered, setting his eyes to a second scanner as it accepted his handprint. "That's also why he insisted we wear goggles. Mom goes ballistic when he blinds himself."

"That makes sense," Roxanne answered, watching as Mace next pressed first his lips and then his tongue into two more scanners. He wiped at his mouth as it accepted the print, making a face.

"We need to leave cleaning agents here for that," he muttered to himself. Roxanne was now slightly confused—she was familiar with the hand and eye scanners, and with the need for DNA verification—they had those on their front doors at home—but why in the world would he use his lips or tongue?

As if he had read her mind, Mace began explaining the moment the door opened to allow them entrance.

"The Cerulean lips and tongue are just as individualized as a fingerprint, iris, or retinal scan. Dad designed it to add extra precautions against invaders, and I'm working on a dental-imprint addition in my free time—I'm not sure that it's impossible, but it is highly improbable for any two people to share the same exact dental records."

"What if someone gets a tooth knocked out?" Roxanne asked.

"Someone else who's in the registry can let them in and update the imprint."

"What if no one else is in the registry?" Mace paused and thought for a moment.

"In my home that wouldn't be a problem," he decided. "All three of us are on the registry. And even if it was just me, you face the same trouble with any sort of print—if you lose your eyes, or burn your fingerprints off, etc."

"It just seems like a bit of a logical fallacy," Roxanne went on. "You'd have to update the registry constantly—your teeth are constantly changing by the smallest degrees, and if you didn't update it for a few days, you could be locked out even if you pass all the other features. And it wouldn't be too difficult for anyone who really wanted to get in to get access to your dental records and create a mold of your teeth…" Mace facepalmed.

"Well, I'm an idiot," he proclaimed, looking completely matter-of-fact as he said it. He picked up a pad of paper nearby and quickly scribbled a note to himself, speaking aloud as he did so. "Note to self," he mumbled, "Destroy…Dental…Imprinting…Scanner."

"You don't have to destroy it!" Roxanne said quickly. "I wasn't trying to say it was bad, I just…I—I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know anything. Don't listen to me. I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Mace snorted, tearing off the note and hanging it on the nearest hook. Roxanne realized as she looked around that various notes and sketches were hung up on hooks that were attached to strings, which hung from the ceiling in various spots here, there, and everywhere. He beckoned her to follow him, and she did. "I've seen your grades up on your Class Wall. You're a solid B student, and that's nothing to laugh at."

"Right," Roxanne said, rolling her eyes as they came to a halt at a small table. What looked to be a metal frame stood at its center, and over it hung the sketches Mace had drawn up the week before. "I'm a B, sometimes C student in a school where everyone else has straight As. I'm anywhere _near_ intelligent."

"I'm not everyone, Aida," Mace laughed. Roxanne gave him a quizzical look, and Mace cocked his head curiously. "You…Really think everyone else has straight As, don't you?"

"Well they do!" Roxanne exclaimed.

"Aida," Mace laughed, his face softening, "I think someone has seriously been pulling your leg!"

"What are you talking about?" Roxanne demanded, crinkling her forehead.

"What do you think the point of grades would be if everyone got straight As?" Mace demanded.

"I—I don't know," Roxanne said with a shrug. "To make sure people aren't shirking off?"

"Well, that's part of it, but—look," Mace said, starting over. "There's no point to any sort of grading system if anyone is getting the same exact grades. Yes, compared to what we know of the human race, we are hundreds and thousands of years ahead, but that doesn't mean we're all uniform. Saying that all Ceruleans get straight As is like saying all humans failed at every single thing they did within their own school systems. You're probably at least three hundred years ahead of where you came from right this very second. In fact, it's probably more than that. Who in the _world_ told you that everyone got straight As, anyway?" Roxanne paused.

"Reptung," she admitted. Mace rolled his eyes.

"Goodness, I'm glad I don't have siblings! Your brother isn't one to talk—he's got good grades but not much else, and you've got better grades than a lot of the girls in your class. Deldja's got worse grades than you have, and she's no less than average."

"Sorry," Roxanne apologized, looking down.

"Sorry?" Mace asked. "Sorry for what?"

"For being an idiot," she answered.

"Aida, aren't we having this same conversation right now?" Mace prompted, catching her eye. She smiled a little and covered her face with her hands, causing him to smile again as well.

"Oh, shut up," she laughed. "You know what I mean!"

"Yes, I know precee—precisely what you mean," Mace said with mock seriousness. "You're sorry for being an idiot about being stupid. Perfect sense is made of this situation by any and all who choose to ponder it. What could be more clear?"

"You're a jerk," Roxanne accused, but he could tell from the look on her face when she peeked out at him that she didn't mean it. She was so cute like that, with her face all red and her smile so wide, and a laugh carried on her voice…Mace shook his head slightly.

"Well, you shouldn't be a jerk to yourself," he returned. "You're very intelligent, and shouldn't underestimate yourself. You're probably smarter than anyone on your planet ever was. Except maybe that Einstein fellow. _He_ was a genius in his own right, regardless of how long ago his concepts were thought up by Cerulean scientists."

"How do you even know about this stuff?" Roxanne suddenly demanded. "Everyone seems to know more about where I came from than I do, and iI'm/i the one who's supposed to feel pride in who they are! How am I supposed to so much as _respect_ a dead culture I hate and simultaneously know nothing about?"

"No one's ever let you in the Pod?" Mace asked.

"What Pod?" Roxanne asked quickly.

"The Pod you arrived in," Mace said. "No one's ever let you see it?" Roxanne shook her head. "That's not right," Mace said. "I've had access to the Pod since I was ten. It has a plethora of information on your people within it, though, obviously, not all of it. But it's still fascinating! You really should see it—Oh! We should go look at it now! Come, Aida," he said, grabbing Roxanne's hand. "We should go look at it now, before we forge—OOF!" Mace dropped Roxanne's hand as he tumbled over a counter he had forgotten was there, scattering various mechanisms and tubes to the four winds and literally doing a somersault in midair. He landed on hoverboard and went spinning, stopping when his head cracked into the wall.

Had he stopped after the somersault, Roxanne might have giggled, but as it was, she gasped, rushing to his side with worry written all over her face.

"Mace," she shouted, leaping onto and then over the same counter he'd fallen over. "Are you all right?" Mace blinked as Roxanne skidded to a stop beside him, and he looked up into her face. Then he grinned.

"I'm fine," he answered. "I am perfectly, one hundred percent fine! Now, let's get to that Pod—" Roxanne giggled and grabbed at Mace's hand before he could drag her out of the lab.

"Maybe we should just look at the robot's skeletal frame," she offered, gesturing to the area of the laboratory from whence they had just come. "That's what you asked me over for, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yes," Mace answered, slapping his forehead. "Goodness gracious, I'd almost forgotten about that! I wanted to show you this remarkable thing you can do when you press down on the end of what I have of the tail so far. It's a fluke, and I plan on working it out with all the other bugs, but I'm sure you'll be able to appreciate this, _especially_ since you…"

Roxanne tuned out as Mace stood up and grabbed her hand to pull her back over to the table where the backbone and the beginnings of legs had been worked out. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was almost certain he could hear it, but he didn't give any indication that he could. They were there for at least two hours as Mace finished up showing her the spinal column before taking her around the lab, introducing her to a few of the projects he was working on. She loved the way his eyes shone when he talked about what he was doing, and it wasn't too hard for her to jump to the conclusion that he didn't have many chances to explain all of the many functions of his designs with his peers.

He never let go of her hand once while they were there.

As Roxanne met up with Gilda at the door, the two smiled at one another and hugged. Mace and Minion stood in the door, waving as they made their way out of the house and down the path that would take them home.

"I fully intend to see you here again tomorrow, Aida!" Mace called cheerfully. "I may even have to fly over to pick you up, if you aren't here by noon!"

"I will be!" Roxanne promised with a wave and a bright smile in his and Minion's direction. But maybe she wouldn't be. Maybe she'd be a little late.

Maybe just enough to make him come and get her.

**Author Comments: Not really much to say on this chapter…But I just want to thank everyone who's been reviewing my story! Your reviews mean the world to me! ^.^**


	19. Into His Arms

But Roxanne didn't return the next day. Noon came and went, and Mace sat in his room with Minion in his glass sphere, the both of them listening for the door with an urgent anxiousness. As they waited, Mace tried to sketch, but he found himself unable to focus, and kept breaking his pencils.

Finally, around five, Mace leaped to his feet, tossing his notebook to the floor. "I'm going over to pick them up!" Mace announced decisively.

"Could I go with you, Sir?" Minion asked, quickly rolling down the small ramp that lay on the bed, which brought him into the belly of his lendor suit. The ramp closed as his ball entered, and in a matter of milliseconds, Minion was free to move about in the bowl at the top of his robotic contraption.

"No, Minion," Mace answered, shaking his head. "I'll be right back. Code: I need you to pretend I'm here if Mom and Dad ask because I'm not really supposed to be using my rocketboots for another few days."

"Code: Alright, Sir," Minion acquiesced, and though he sounded chipper, his eyes were tinged with a touch of sadness.

"Code: I'll be back with Aida and Gilda!" Mace said, tapping his heels together and _gently_ ascending into the air. He'd been working on that.

"Code: See you soon, Sir!" Minion called back as Mace fled out the window, and with a sigh, the minion went about tidying Mace's room, his fins drooping slightly.

***Break***

When Mace came upon the Cerebellum household, he was surprised to find Roxanne's window open. Very quietly, the boy tapped his heels together, landing on the windowsill and entering with a gentle, "Ollo? Aida, are you—" Mace halted when he caught sight of Roxanne.

She was thrown across her bed, her face buried in her pillow and her arms flung over her head. She shook with quiet sobs that could barely be heard through the thick composition of the gonshedin-feathered pillows. The pillow, along with her bangs, hid her face from sight, but her body shuddered with every sob and sniffle.

"Aida?" Mace asked softly, concern appearing on his face as he made his way over. Roxanne looked up at him, tears leaking from her eyes, her face blotchy, her eyes puffy and red. Snot dribbled from her nose, and Roxanne sniffed and wiped at her nose before turning away from him, trying to quiet herself. A Lady shouldn't cry, especially in front of a boy. The only people a Lady should cry to are her minion, her parents, and her mate, and while Roxanne was far from being a Lady, seeing as she was still a teenager, she was _going_ to be one, and that was reason enough to make herself stop.

"What's wrong?" Mace prompted gently, looking around before seating himself beside the girl. She was alone. Not even Gilda was with her.

He set a hand on her shoulder, and Roxanne flinched and pulled away. He repeated the action, and though she still flinched, Roxanne didn't pull away this time.

"Are you alright?" Roxanne shook her head. "Where's Gilda? And your parents?"

"Outside," Roxanne answered, and her voice cracked as she said the word. She covered her mouth with her hands as another rebellious tear leaked from her eyes. She muffled a sob with her hands.

"What happened?" he asked again, this time a little more assertive, but not by any means unkind. Roxanne shook her head again, handing him a crumpled image she'd had in her hands. He unfolded the photograph carefully, and his forehead creased in thought as he looked down at the picture.

It was a high-quality picture of a tiny bungdo-skinned infant, a tuft of brown fluff covering its head as it hugged a tiny red baby kitten with one arm, its other arm set on the glass sphere of a purple-pink minion that smiled up at the babe with pride and hope for the days to come in its shining golden-brown eyes.

It didn't really take any brain power at all for Mace to realize that it was a picture of Roxanne, Gilda, and Quicksilver. He analyzed the image, searching every detail for a sign of what would make her unhappy. A dreadful thought bloomed in his mind, and his heart seized up.

"Gilda isn't hurt, is she?" Mace demanded, dropping the picture and turning Roxanne toward him, gripping her roughly by both shoulders. A wild fear was in his eyes. "Tell me Gilda's alright!" he insisted.

"Gilda's fi—fine," Roxanne said, wiping furiously at her eyes. Her throat ached from trying to withhold the tears.

"Oh thank God," Mace sighed in relief, his heart released from the icy claws of fright.

"But Quicksilver—Quicksilver's not," Roxanne went on, sobbing on the last word and biting at her tongue. Mace's face fell all over again.

"What's wrong with her?" Mace asked. Roxanne shook her head, and tears came unbidden to her eyes once more. She stopped trying to fight her. She was no Lady—she'd never be a _real_ Lady; who was _she_ trying to fool?

"She—She didn't…She couldn't—She—she—she's g-gone," Roxanne stuttered, and sobbed again.

"No," Mace said quietly. Roxanne nodded, beyond words as she shut her bright blue eyes and covered her face with her hands. "No," he repeated a little louder. "She can't be—I was making her a robotic body! She was going to be able to live as long as you did!"

"She had a hea-heart a-attack," Roxanne sobbed. "G-Gishnar didn't m-mean it," she went on. "He didn't kn-know that she was there. He was—he was ju-just t-trying to g-get Reptung a sn-snack, and she was s-sleeping o-on the b-banister, and he acci-dent-ally grabbed her t-tail, and she f-fell, and…" Roxanne couldn't finish the sentence. She buried her face deeper in her hands and succumbed to her own woe. It broke Mace's metaphorical cardiovascular center to see her like this. Broke it clean in two.

Mace slowly wrapped his arms around Roxanne, holding her close and letting her cry on him as he buried his own face in the top of her head. He closed his eyes and wished that he could make it better.

He had known that Roxanne loved that kitten, but until he'd seen that photograph, he hadn't realized just how long she'd loved her, or just how close they were. He wouldn't be too very surprised if Quicksilver and Gilda were all she had ever had. And now she just had Gilda…

_No you don't,_ Mace chided her mentally, knowing she couldn't hear him in his thoughts (and glad for it). _You've got me and Minion now, too. We're your friends._

"I'm so sorry, Aida," Mace whispered aloud, stroking her hair to see if it would soothe her. "I'm so, so, _so_ sorry."

"It's n-not y-your f-fault," Roxanne sobbed. Mace just held her tighter.

It was almost an inevitability that the two of them fell asleep like that.

**Author Comments: Extreme sadness...And a little tiny drop of cuteness in an endless sea of Molankaly.**

**A Lady (with a capital L) is a noblewoman. Isst and Mendje are Ladies because they're both wealthy and come from noble families with high-status men as husbands. Roxanne will one day be a Lady because she was adopted by a Lord and Lady. And, as is mentioned, they aren't supposed to cry except in front of the people closest to them, because it's simply unbefitting of a noblewoman to cry in front of anyone else.**


	20. Didn't See A Thing

Roxanne and Mace were asleep for no more than ten minutes, Mace propped up against the wall the bed was adjacent to and Roxanne lying on top of him with her head resting on his chest, his chin resting on her head, and his long blue finger tangled in her short brown hair.

When the tenth minute was up, it was Isst who crept into Roxanne's room, expecting to find her daughter alone and in need of comfort. Gilda followed close behind, wiping dirt from her large mechanical hands. They both stopped in the doorway as they spotted Mace, the door continuing to swing inward. Isst immediately scrabbled for the door, hoping to catch it before it slammed and woke them up (if only she had her light-capturing processor on her!), but only managed to make it hit the wall even harder than it would have otherwise.

Mace sat bolt upright, waking Roxanne as he did so, and the girl inhaled sharply and turned red all over when she found herself tangled up with the older teen. Mace flushed as he saw Isst and Gilda in the doorway, and quickly moved to detach himself from Roxanne, tangling himself in her bed coverings instead and falling straight off the bed with his legs wrapped up in her comforter.

"It's not what it looks like!" he said quickly, remembering Loral's response to his last unorthodox entrance into Roxanne's room.

"Don't worry!" Isst answered with a wink before she covered her eyes and motioned for Gilda to do the same. "We didn't see a thing!" The door shut and Mace remained with his head on the floor, blood draining into his face and making it itch with that certain over-fullness that came with a bloodrush.

"That was hawkward," Mace stated, not even bothering to correct himself. Roxanne mumbled something in agreement, and Mace started trying to wriggle out of the blankets. Roxanne leaned over and unwrapped his legs, and Mace went skidding across the room as his rocketboots activated and then deactivated themselves.

"You should…Probably go," Roxanne muttered, not looking at him.

"Yeah," Mace agreed. "I…Probably should. Before your Father comes in with his electro-shock propulsion gun." Roxanne smiled, but the smile was weak and diluted by the look in her eyes. She wasn't crying anymore, but the tears were still in her voice, and sleep upon her breath, and she felt like she could sleep a thousand years. She desperately wanted this day to be over.

"Well…Farewell," Mace said, not really wanting to say it but knowing it was for the best. She needed to grieve. He stepped over quickly, pressing his forehead to hers for a very long, drawn out moment. Roxanne found herself blushing a little at the prolonged contact, watching his face, his eyes shut tight in what appeared to be concentration. She studied every inch of his face, memorizing what it looked like up close—she'd rarely had the time to do that, their other farewells being so short.

Then Mace withdrew, and his lip twitched in the beginnings of a forced smile. "Sleep well," he bade, and was gone before Roxanne could answer.

She curled back up on the bed, pulling her covers over her. Though it wasn't even six o' clock and far too early for sleep, Roxanne slept anyway. She wouldn't wake until morning.

***Break***

Minion looked up as Mace flew in through the window. Minion immediately noticed that his Master was troubled.

"What's wrong, Sir?" Minion asked.

"Quicksilver died," Mace answered, sitting down on his bed, arms hanging limp at his sides.

"That's terrible!" Minion exclaimed.

"I know," Mace agreed. "Aida's heartbroken."

"How was Gilda doing?"

"I suppose she must be heartbroken, too. I didn't get a chance to speak with her, though."

"Is Miss Cerebellum going to be all right, Sir?"

"I hope so," Mace answered, beginning to pull his boots off.

"Should we go over tomorrow to give our condolences?"

"No, Minion," Mace answered, shaking his head. "I think they need time to themselves. We'll see them in shool on Grustday, anyhow. We can speak with them then and make sure they're alright."

"School, Sir," Minion corrected. Then he nodded, but before he could go about his business, the watch began to bleep. Mace looked down at it and groaned before shutting it off. "Who was it, Sir?"

"Just Krut again," Mace answered, shaking his head. Then he sneered and growled something unintelligible under his breath.

"Again?" Minion asked. "What do you mean, 'again?'"

"Hadn't I told you?" Mace asked. Minion shook his "head." "Hm," Mace said, scratching at his facial hair. "I could have sworn I had. Anyway, Krut's been calling me all week to speak with Aida."

"Does she not want to speak with him?"

"I hope not."

"You've not spoken to her about it?"

"…No?" Mace answered a little sheepishly.

"Sir!" Minion exclaimed, setting his hands on his hips. "Why wouldn't you ask her if she wants to speak with him?"

"You sound like Mother," Mace informed the fish.

"No, I sound like a minion; that's my name, and that's my occupation. It's Aida's decision whether or not she wants to speak with Krut or not, and you need to inform her that he'd like to speak with her."

"Well I don't want to!" Mace exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What does it matter?"

"I just don't want him talking to her," Mace growled, giving his minion the Evil Eye. "If he starts talking to her, you _know_ he'll fall in love with her, and then he'll sweep her off to Crypt and she'll go off and become the Queen; but she's a Cerulean, and she belongs on Cerul with everyone else! She doesn't belong on Crypt, especially with that stupid _dingbat!_"

"I've never heard you speak so sorely about Prince Krut," Mace said, astonished by his Master's sudden change of mood.

"Well, I don't want his filthy Cryptonian hands all over Aida, that's all!"

"You like her!" Minion accused. Mace blushed, but he didn't try to deny it.

"Well, you already knew that, now didn't you?"

"Of course I _knew,_" Minion replied. "But I didn't have any proof!"

"Well, now you have it," Mace snapped, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. "Can we just drop the subject now and move on?"

"Sir," Minion chided, "if you don't let him talk to her, he's going to show up here."

"Well, we can deal with it then, now can't we?"

"Well Sir, if you don't do something soon, there won't be any dealing with it. Miss Cerebellum will just simply disappear, and all we'll hear about her is how well she's doing with being a Princess." Mace growled, sat up, and turned, slamming his fist into the wall, then inhaling sharply at the pain. One of his knuckles was torn open by the impact, but Mace didn't really care.

"Krut is _not_ going to take Aida away from Cerul," Mace asserted. "She's beautiful, and she shouldn't be living on a planet with all those ugly Cryptonians. She'd never survive there, either! She's not invincible! She couldn't withstand a single attack from the dragons that live therein! They'd have to baby her to make sure she stayed safe, and as brilliant as she is, I'm positive that she wouldn't be happy there, living like that! There's no _way_ they're taking her off of Cerul for even a single moment while there's still breath in my body!" Minion couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit as he watched his boss rant and rave and pace the floor.

"Well, Sir, what do you plan to do about it?" Mace looked sharply up at Minion and set his jaw with determination in his eyes.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Minion!" Mace exclaimed, driving his fist into the opposite palm. "I'm going to find out how to destroy a Crypotonian." Minion gave Mace a look.

"Sir," Minion said drily, "We've been over this before. Nothing can destroy a Cryptonian."

"They have to have a weakness, Minion—King Orrt has a scar!" Minion sighed.

"Sir, I don't think that's the right direction to move in. Maybe we should try a less Seventh War-of-the-Worlds approach, and more of an every-day approach."

"Oh. That could work, too," Mace agreed, blushing a little and stroking his beard in thought. "Well…I could try flowers?"

"That's an excellent idea, Sir," Minion praised, and Mace grinned.

"You'd better believe it, Mignon! All of my ideas are excellent! Well, besides that time I blew up the chemistry lab. That was _not_ such a good idea…"


	21. Taking A Stand

Roxanne and Gilda spent the rest of the weekend alone in their room. Mace didn't contact them all weekend, and when Grustday came around, the girls found themselves back at school.

Mace was nowhere to be seen there, either.

When Roxanne tried to contact Mace through the watch, she found that the receiving end had been disconnected somehow.

As Second Hour came around, Roxanne slid into her seat with Gilda beside her, and leaned her head on her minion's tank. Roxanne knew she shouldn't have cried in front of Mace. She was supposed to be a Lady, or least getting herself ready to become one! She was going to be on HWP in three weeks! She should have made him go away before she'd started bawling again, but she hadn't had the wherewithal then to do so, and here she'd gone and scared him off.

Roxanne closed her eyes. "Back to just you and me, Gilda," she mumbled, and tears threatened as she remembered that she no longer had her secret friend waiting for her at home to play with her school supplies or scare Reptung or curl up on her lap when she was down, or make that rumbling sound at the back of her throat that scared Gishnar… "Just you and me," Roxanne repeated.

Then the Professor started taking roll call, and she straightened, determined not to act like anything had bothered her.

***Break***

Unfortunately for Roxanne, Deldja was quick to note that Mace was nowhere to be seen around the pale-skinned girl. It was only a few hours into the day that Deldja and Flooze cornered Roxanne and Gilda in the halls.

"Ollo, Aida," Deldja sneered. Roxanne cast her eyes down.

"Hello, Deldja," Roxanne returned in a soft monotone.

"Where's Mace?" Deldja asked, looking Aida up and down as if sizing her up. More likely she was looking for more reasons to insult her than she usually had. "You didn't eat him, did you?"

"I'm omnivorous, just like everyone else," Roxanne mumbled. "I'm not a cannibal."

"It wouldn't be cannibalism if you ate one of us, now would it?"

"Maybe not in your eyes," Roxanne answered softly, still avoiding eye contact. "But I was raised just like anyone else."

"Well that's where they went wrong," Deldja snarled, shoving Roxanne into a wall and causing her to drop her books.

"Hey!" Gilda shouted, moving for Deldja. "Leave her alone!" But Flooze pushed Gilda into the opposite wall before she could get to her Mistress.

"Listen to me, you little pink-skinned _freak,_" Deldja snarled, standing over Roxanne with her hands on her hips. The halls were already empty by this point, as it was lunch time, and most everyone else was already gathered with their friends to eat. "You stay _away_ from Mace Mind. He may not understand it yet, but he's _mine,_ and I'm _not_ going to have some sort of _animal_ trying to get into his pants while I'm around!"

"You don't have to worry about that," Roxanne answered, refusing to meet Deldja's eyes. "It's not like he'd ever care for me in a romantic fashion."

"No, he _wouldn't_ care for you, but with mind control powers, it wouldn't be too difficult to get him to _think_ he does, now would it?" Roxanne looked up slowly.

"You've been talking to my brother, haven't you?"

"That's right," Deldja growled, "I _have._ It's easy to get to know all of your dirty little secrets when I've got Reptung twirled right around my finger."

"You leave my brother alone," Roxanne ordered softly. "He's never done anything to you, and neither have I."

"You think _I'm_ going to do what _you_ say? That isn't how this works, _Roxanne._ I'm the one who's Cerulean; you're just a filthy, discolored _space-lendor_ that's somehow been given the ability to _speak._ You're going to do what I say, or I'm going to make your life _miserable._"

"You already do that," Roxanne pointed out, averting her gaze again. The freckled Cerulean glared down at her.

"Well I can make it _worse._" Roxanne felt chilled. She didn't know how Deldja could possibly do that, but she didn't doubt that she'd find a way. "Now, here's what you're going to do; you're going to leave Mace alone, you're going to stop trying to brainwash people, you're _not_ going to let them run your story on the 16th Wave, and you're _never_ going to try to touch _any_ man _ever_ again." Roxanne's eyes narrowed, and she glared up at the taller girl with a rebellious look in her eye.

"No," she answered. For a moment, Deldja looked surprised, but then her face began to turn purple with anger.

"What did you just say?" she growled dangerously.

"I said no," Roxanne answered, pulling herself up to her full height. "I have just as much of a right to be here as you do; I'm _not_ an animal, and I'm _not_ going to give up my chance at having the career field I desire. I _don't_ have mind control powers, and, by the way, your descriptors of me are oxy-moronic, as it's kind of a fallacy for an animal to have a brain advanced enough to control those of others. I'm _not_ going to leave Mace alone, because _he's_ the one who asked me to spend time with him in the first place, and if I ever _do_ find someone who could _possibly_ stand my physical appearance and mental downfalls, if I decide to get involved with him on a romantic level, it's _none of your __**damn**__ business._" Deldja glared down into Roxanne's defiant face for a moment, her teeth clenched less tightly together than they had been a moment before.

Then she hit her.

Blood erupted from Roxanne's nose, spattering her face and the clean white walls as she turned from the normal-colored teen and fell back upon it.

"_Aida!"_ Gilda screamed, trying to push past Flooze to get at her Mistress. But the pinkish-orange minion wasn't having that, and she shoved Gilda back with all the force of a jealous fish inside of an 800-pound robotic lendor suit, cracking Gilda's dome against the wall hard enough to break glass.

Gilda's dome was made of glass.

"Gilda!" Roxanne screamed as water came pouring out of the minion's tank. She stood up and tried to push Deldja out of the way, but Deldja was still intent on keeping them apart.

"No you _don't!_" Deldja shouted, shoving Roxanne back down. Roxanne cracked her own head against the wall, and her head instantly began to pound. Deldja kicked her in the leg, and Roxanne tried not to whimper as she covered her head and curled up into a ball on the floor. "You don't _ever_ talk back to _me,_ you disgusting little _monster!_" Deldja howled between repetitive blows to Roxanne's arms, legs, and, when she could manage it, stomach.

"Leave my Mistress alone!" Gilda shouted, gasping for breath as she flopped across the floor. Flooze tried repeatedly to pick her up to hold her still, but Gilda just kept slipping through her fingers. Deldja ignored the fish all the way up until Gilda managed to leap out of Flooze's grasp a last time and sink her teeth into Deldja's hand.

The blue girl screamed, Gilda's razor sharp teeth immediately breaking the flesh. "Get off of me!" Deldja cried, throwing her hand out to the side as hard as she could. Gilda lost her grip and flew from Deldja's hand, smacking into the wall with a wet _SQLUD!_ and a sickening cracking sound. Roxanne craned her head up at the sound, and she gasped, terror in her eyes.

"Gilda!"

"Aida!" Mace and Minion's simultaneous shouts echoed down the hall, and when Roxanne looked to them, they were moving faster than she'd ever seen them. In a matter of seconds, Minion was scooping Gilda into his tank and Mace was tackling Deldja to the floor.

"You leave them the fargon alone!" Mace shouted, seething hatred flaring in his brilliant green eyes.

"You're going to stick up for that _creature_ and her _undeserved_ minion?" Deldja spat.

"Always," Mace answered.

"Get off of me!" Deldja snarled. "You're under her power! Let me _go!_"

"I'm not letting you go until someone comes to deal with this!" Mace snarled back. Deldja's face was twisted with hatred, and she did the only thing she could think of to get out of this situation. She brought her head back and slammed her forehead into Mace's face, hitting him right above his eyes. Mace was momentarily stunned, and released Deldja, who leaped to her feet.

But Mace was back up before she could run, and his fist turned her cheek dark and sent her falling to the floor. He kicked her side—not her stomach; just her side—and growled, "you leave Aida alone!" Then he turned and dropped down beside Roxanne, anger turning to fear.

"Aida, are you all right?" he demanded, pulling her up so that she was kneeling and taking her shoulders in his hands. He didn't wait for her to answer. "Minion!" he shouted, turning his head. "Is Gilda all right?" That was what he was really afraid of. Roxanne was hurt, and it worried him, but that could wait. But he'd just seen Gilda get tossed into a wall. And she was a fish. She was tiny. She could be crippled.

She could _die._  
>"No, Sir," Minion said. He sounded like he was on the verge of panicking as he tried to keep Gilda from falling to the bottom of the tank. "She's unconscious, and I think some of her ribs might be broken."<p>

"Aida?" Mace asked, turning back to the girl, who was staring straight ahead, her forehead creased, her eyes full of some colorless emotion that he couldn't quite place. She was in shock.

He shook her.

"Aida? Aida, are you OK? Minion, stay with her," Mace ordered. "Keep Gilda afloat, I'm going for help." He stood up quickly and took off down the hall before Minion could answer, shouting, "Help! Someone help! Contact the emergency medical ward! A student and her minion require immediate medical attention! Help!"

Minion directed his robot body to sit beside Aida while his actual body worked to keep Gilda from falling, his fin clutching hers as best as it could and his tendrils wrapped tightly around hers.

The flowers Mace had missed half of the school day to find in just the right colors lay forgotten on the floor.


	22. Sorry Doesn't Cut It

Mace and Minion accompanied Roxanne and Gilda to the hospital in the emergency vehicle kept behind the school. Minion and Mace had insisted on it, and since Minion's suit was the one Gilda was housed in, it hadn't taken much for the School Overlord to become convinced.

Mace held Roxanne's hand as they drove, Roxanne and Minion watching Gilda anxiously, Mace's eyes flitting between Gilda and Roxanne. He wished he hadn't let Deldja off so easy. The school had called Law Enforcement on Deldja and Flooze before the four of them had left the building, but Mace wished he could have left Deldja with some real damage—he wished she hadn't been lying on her front, that she had fallen on her side so that he _could_ have kicked her in the stomach.

On Cerul, there was no stigma about men hitting women or boys hitting girls. On Crypt things were different—the men weren't supposed to hit women, regardless of whether or not it could hurt them—but on Cerul, that wasn't a thing. If a woman hit a man, the man hit back.

The only stigma attached to violence toward a woman was striking her in the stomach, where her reproductive organs were held. It was the equivalent of striking a man where his own reproductive organs were housed, but because women carried the children and were born with a set number of eggs, a punch to a feminine stomach was slightly worse than a kick to the masculine groin—that was also a stigma.

But it was probably best that he hadn't. It probably would have gotten him into trouble. He didn't need any of that.

***Break***

Roxanne sat with her face buried in Mace's shoulder, and he had his arms around her in a comforting manner. Minion sat to the other side of Mace, wringing his hands anxiously.

Roxanne didn't notice it, but Mace had dressed in his best for today. He bore his family insignia, black clothing with a light blue lightning bolt across the chest, and wore his best cape, which was actually the cape his father had used when he was Mace's age. There was even a small layer of black smeared under either eye to make them stand out more. He'd talked it over with Minion over the weekend and had pinpointed exactly why it was that Krut's call infuriated him so much. He'd been planning to ask Aida to go with him to the Lunar Eclipse Dance at the end of the week.

But this was more important.

Roxanne had refused help from the doctors when they'd arrived. She had insisted that Gilda be seen to and Gilda alone. But Mace had checked her nose after they'd been shown to this waiting room, which was empty but for the three of them, and void of any doctors or nurses. It was broken, but was nothing that couldn't easily be fixed. Her arms and legs were starting to bruise from Deldja's assault, but, again, they were just minor injuries.

"It's alright," Mace soothed. "Gilda will be fine." _She __**has**__ to be fine._ Roxanne just shook her head.

She hated that she was crying again. She hated that she was allowing herself to be so weak in front of him—this was the second time she'd cried in front of him, and twice now he'd had to save her (though if she was honest with herself, she _did_ like it when he saved her). But then again, she had a reason to.

"I-I don't think Gilda and I are linked right," Roxanne said in a hushed whisper as she turned her head to the side, her arms thrown around his neck, looking in the direction opposite his face. "I don't think my brain has that capacity, and I don't think I was young enough for it to work, and Gilda is an entire year and a half younger than I am, and I think if she doesn't make it I _will,_ and then I'll be all alone, and—" She sobbed, and Mace held her tighter. Roxanne didn't even know why he was still here.

"You won't be alone," Mace insisted, shutting his own eyes. "You'll be fine, and Gilda will be fine, and even if she isn't, you've got Minion and me." Roxanne shook her head.

"I don't even know you," she said with a small, tearful smiled.

"That's only half-true," Mace answered, a little hurt by the statement. Sure, they'd only known each other for a few weeks, but they'd spent just about every spare moment together, hadn't they? Well, he didn't know how much spare time _she_ had, but _he'd_ spent every spare moment that _he_ had with _her._ They were quiet for a long moment as Roxanne cried silent tears and Mace rocked slowly back and forth.

"I don't want you to go away," Mace said into the silence when some time had passed.

"What are you t-talking ab-about?" Roxanne asked with a sniffle.

"I don't want you to go off with Krut and become the Queen of Crypt and leave us here, and I know that sounds selfish, but I don't. You belong here on Cerul, and I don't want you to go away.

"I don't want to go either," Roxanne answered, and Mace felt a little better. "Remember when you said Minion had a crush on Gilda?" Roxanne whispered after a while. Mace's face colored slightly, but he confirmed the memory.

"Yes."

"I think Gilda likes him, too." Mace's face colored a little more, and after a second's hesitation, he decided to ask the question that statement stirred up in his mind.

"Does that mean—"

Suddenly the door was flung open. Mace and Minion scrambled away from Roxanne as her mother and father burst in with their minions. Isst threw her arms around Roxanne, and Loral was soon hugging her from the other side, as well.

"Roxanne," Isst cried. "Honey, are you alright?"

"Is Gilda OK?" Loral demanded.

"The school called us and told us what happened."

"We called Law Enforcement and we're pressing charges against Deldja for two counts of attempted murder."

"And we're classifying it as a hate crime," Isst added. Roxanne nodded, wiping her eyes, and she and her parents spoke in a hush for a few moments before everything became quiet. Mace began to pace back and forth, and Minion played with his hands off to one side. Isst, Roxanne, and Loral sat huddled together, the adults lending comfort to their daughter and taking strength from her continuing ability to breathe and pump blood through her body. Beside them, Civ and Rit sat, their hands clasped with worried looks on both of their faces. It was the first time any of them had ever seen them acting close in any way, but they both loved their adopted daughter, and as worried as they were, it was only natural that they would seek comfort from one another.

Long, agonizing moments passed, and they all looked up as the door burst open a second time. Reptung and Gishnar came lying in, skidding to a breathless halt just in front of the door.

"I heard Gilda was hurt!" Reptung cried. "What happened?" Roxanne turned cold eyes on the slate-eyed boy, and he gulped.

"Your girlfriend tried to kill her," Roxanne growled. "_That's_ what happened."

"Deldja isn't my girlfriend!" Reptung denied.

"But you _wish_ she was!" Roxanne spat, and stood before either of her parents could restrain her. "I can't believe you!" she hissed, and Reptung shared a nervous glance with Gishnar.

"I can't help that she's the hottest girl in school," Reptung answered, trying to act indifferent.

"Maybe you can't help that," Roxanne snarled, "but you _could have_ kept yourself from divulging all of the information you've got on me in that whacked up head of yours!"

"I never—"

"You told her my _name!_" Roxanne shouted, looking around for something to throw at him and unable to find anything. "You told her I had _mind control powers!_ You know that she hates me! _Why_ would you _do_ that?" Reptung didn't have an answer, and neither did anyone else in the room. Even Isst cast expectant eyes on the former orphan.

"I—" He stopped himself, unable to think of anything to get him off the hook. He even looked a little ashamed. "I'm sorry." He clearly meant it, but Roxanne shook her head, glaring at him as she'd never done before.

"It's a little too late for 'sorry,'" Roxanne snapped. "Do you know how much I could have told everyone in school to try and get ahead? Do you _know_ how much _I've_ done, just so that _you_ could have a chance at normalcy?

"I've kept up the illusion that I don't even _know you_ for _twelve years!_" she shouted. "I've purposely refrained from ever so much as _looking_ at you, I've not said a word to anyone, not even my _Professors,_ about having a brother _at all!_ I could have told the entire school exactly who your sister was, and I could have done _so_ much more than that!" Reptung gave a weak, fearful smile, and gulped. His ears burned as his eyes darted over to Mace, who glared disapprovingly at the older boy.

"I could have told anyone who would have listened about how you've got a criminal record, or how you've still got all of your _dolls_ from when you were two, _or_ how you kissed Sezzareck Occipital in Third Year! I could have told all of your teachers about how Gilda, Gishnar, and I did all of your homework when you broke your arm last year, or I _could_ have told Deldja how _madly in love with her_ you are!"

"I said I was sorry," Reptung answered meekly.

"Well sorry doesn't cut it!" Roxanne shouted, practically screaming at him. She removed one of her shoes and chucked it at her brother, hitting him in the temple and causing him to stumble. Gishnar kept him from falling over and got him back on his feet, but the minion didn't say a word. "I bet you told her about the time I broke my ankle climbing trees, didn't you? Because that was the first place she kicked me after I fell, and now Gilda might be dying, and if you had just kept your _big mouth shut,_ maybe Deldja wouldn't have had enough of an arsenal at hand to make me _fight back!_" There was a long moment of silence, during which no one so much as moved. The tension couldn't have been severed with the sharpest of knives.

A doctor came into the room before anyone moved. He almost stepped right back out at the magnitude of vehemence he caught in Roxanne's eyes, but he cleared his throat and entered with as much authority as he could muster.

"Ra—Roe—Ros—"

"Roxanne," the girl in question said, straightening herself. "It's pronounced Roxanne."

"Roxanne Cerebellum? Your minion is out of surgery." The silence immediately became of a different type.

"Is she all right?" Roxanne asked in a whisper. The doctor cleared his throat again.

"Well, 'all right' is a relative term. But she's certainly alive. Flidnit can give you a better report," he added, gesturing to the window-like area in the silver wall where an orange minion was looking in through the glass. Flidnit was Gilda's regular doctor, and his own Master, Dr. Lobe, was Roxanne's.

"Gilda should be fine," Flidnit assured them all, and everyone heaved a huge sigh of relief. "But I'm afraid she might not be able to use her robotic body for a long while. Her back is broken, as well as two of her ribs, and she won't be able to keep herself afloat. I recommend keeping her close and in her sphere. Try your best to keep her still, and she shouldn't be straining herself too hard for a good few weeks."

"Thank the all-encompassing data storage at the edges of our universe," Loral exclaimed, and Isst nodded her agreement, sending her own silent prayer of thanks as Roxanne just about collapsed against the wall she was nearest to. Gilda was going to be all right. She was going to make a full recovery, and things were going to be fine…

"Now, Roxanne—"

"Aida," Roxanne corrected softly. "Call me Aida, like everyone else."

"Alright," the doctor agreed, and she could hear the relief in his voice. She might have felt sorry for him in another situation, having to cover for her usual doctor and therefore attending to an alien he'd probably only ever heard of around the water cooler or in meetings.

"Aida," he went on, checking a clipboard in his hands, "are you feeling any back pain at all? Especially around your spinal column?"

"No," Roxanne answered with a pain in her chest. She thought she understood now what Krut had meant by "heavy." She felt heavy. Her heart did. "None at all."

"Well, that's unusual," the doctor remarked, but quickly brushed it off. "But not unheard of. Aida, if you'll follow me this way, I'll see you to Dr. Lobe's room right away. He's sorry he couldn't have addressed you here, of course, but…"

"No," Roxanne answered, standing straight up. "That's OK."

"I'll go with you," Mace said quickly, he and Minion practically flew out the door after the doctor and the human girl.

That was when both sets of parents turned their eyes on Reptung and Gishnar, disapproving looks in all eight. They both gulped.

They'd screwed up big time.


	23. Flowers, Fear, And First Kisses

Later that day, Mace dropped by with Minion. After her checkup, Roxanne was allowed to go home, and take Gilda with her.

This time, Mace decided to use the conventional method of entering one's home, and came knocking on Roxanne's door with a hopeful smile on his face and a hand held behind his back. Roxanne held a finger to her lips to indicate quiet, and after nodding his agreement, Mace was allowed to enter with Minion behind them.

It took Roxanne a minute to figure out why Minion looked different. It hit her with only the slightest inkling of surprise. He was wearing Gilda's body—but it was different. There was a new dome on top, and in the middle of the visible section of the dome was strung something that looked sort of like a hammock, only softer and without striation. She looked to Mace for an explanation, and he was quick to give it.

"I made some quick changes," he supplied. "Now she won't have to stay in her sphere. She'll be able to stay in her regular body without hurting herself." Roxanne smiled warmly at the gesture. That was quite possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever done for Gilda and her.

"Thank you," she said softly. "That means a lot. I'm sure Gilda will be thrilled—she hates having to be inactive."

"By the way," Mace said, looking around. "Where is she?" Roxanne gestured to her bed.

"She's sleeping." Mace nodded and turned to Minion.

"Minion? Do you think you could leave for a moment? I'd like to speak with Roxanne alone."

"Of course, Sir," Minion agreed, and backed out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Roxanne's heart rate quickened, and she wondered why he would possibly need to talk to her alone—what could be so important that he'd ask his own _minion_ to leave?

"A-Aida," Roxanne corrected after Minion had gone. "My name is Aida."

"No," Mace answered with a playful smile and a shake of his head. "I got the full story out of your parents after they locked me out of your doctor's office. Your full name is Roxanne Aida Cerebellum." Roxanne blushed, and tried to look angry.

"Don't call me that," she insisted. "Just call me Aida, it—it's normal."

"I shan't do any such thing!" Mace proclaimed, careful to keep his voice down. "I like your first name better. It's a nice name. Rolls off the tongue. And…it suits you."

"Because my name and I are both alien?" she challenged.

"No," Mace said with another shake of his head. "Because you're both beautiful." Roxanne turned a shade darker in embarrassment, and looked down.

"Th-thank you, but—but I'm not. At all. Beautiful, I mean. I'm not beautiful. I'm ugly."

"Yes, I've heard of this before," Mace said with mock seriousness. "It's a chronic disorder called 'Sty-Eyed Beholder.'" Roxanne pursed her lips and gave Mace the best glare she could manage with her face so red.

"Sty-Eyed Beholder," she scoffed. "I'll show _you_ a Sty-Eyed Beholder—look at any of the girls in school. But don't look at me. I'm not a Sty-Eyed Beholder. I'm just a Realistic Beholder."

"Then you're a liar," Mace teased. Roxanne didn't have anything to say, and Mace looked away for a moment before taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what came next.

"Aid—Roxanne," he corrected himself. "I—I had something I wanted to give you at school today, but…I wasn't able to." Mace pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of black, blue, and red rosaceous, a purple-and-gold lilaceous, and several pink lilium. They looked a little battered, and a few of the petals were damaged, but it was a beautiful thing nonetheless, and Roxanne's mouth parted in surprise as her blue eyes darted shyly from Mace to the flowers and back again. He smiled at her.

"These are for you," he said, offering them to the girl, who took them slowly and apprehensively. She could immediately tell that they were not only fresh but wild, as the smell was strong and sweeter than the genetically-modified or specifically-bred flowers sold in shops.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, this time tripping over her words for shock and not embarrassment. "They're lovely."

"I'm sorry; they're not in the best shape, but they were when I picked them, I assure you! They sort of got…trampled." Roxanne shook her head, seating herself near Gilda's sleeping form.

"They're wonderful," she breathed, and Mace seated himself beside her while she admired the delicate things—well, the rosaceous couldn't exactly be called delicate, what with their thick stems and sharp thorns, but the petals certainly weren't any tougher than those of the other flowers. "You're just…giving them to me?" she asked uncertainly.

"Of course I am," Mace answered. Roxanne looked up and suddenly became terribly aware of how close he was. No one (outside of her family, of course) had ever gotten as close to her as Mace got on a now-consistent basis without hurting her. Her heart was beating far too quickly, and her hands were shaking a little. He made her so damn nervous…

"I'll…I'll have to put these in water," Roxanne decided, getting up to get to it, but Mace was quick to stand and grab her hand. She stilled almost immediately.

"Um…Roxanne? I have something that...I wanted to ask you," he started out a little haltingly, and Roxanne turned to look at him in surprise. A violet blush was making its way across his cheeks. "Well, er…Earlier…When you said that you thought Gilda had a crush on Minion? Does that mean that you…?" He didn't know how to finish that sentence without looking like an arrogant jerk, but he didn't need to finish the thought for Roxanne to understand what he was asking. She flushed and looked down in reply, her eyes avoiding his at all costs.

_It's a trap,_ her mind kept telling her. _It's a trap, and you know it, and you need to get out of here now._ But her heart—well, her _metaphorical_ heart—was telling her mind to shut up and let her ears do their job.

Mace was left hanging without a solid answer, but he took the initiative and took a deep breath, his face turning a slightly darker shade of violet.

"Roxanne, I'm no gu-good with words," Mace admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I don't really always know what to say, and I very rarely know _how_ to say it, and I've got this speech impediment that disallows me from saying some of the most sam—_simple_ of words—" (Roxanne blinked at this—she had realized he mispronounced words sometimes, but she never would have thought that _he_ would have a speech impediment!) "—But…I, um…Was wondering…Well, I'm sure you've heard that the, um, Lunar Eclipse Dance is coming up? This Aldaday?" Roxanne nodded. Her heart leaped into her throat. She didn't think she could speak if her life depended on it. "Well…I was wondering…If you and Gilda would—would like to go with Minion and me? No, wait, that wasn't a correctly phrased sentence," Mace said quickly, becoming flustered. "That wasn't meant to be seen as something with a parallel structure about it; the _correct_ way to have said that was to ask you if you and Gilda would like to go—"

"You mean as—as friends?" Roxanne asked, forcing her heart back into her chest. _Calm down, girl. Keep an eye on the window and calm down…_ Mace faltered for a moment, but managed to recover himself, setting a look of determination on his face.

"No," he said firmly, though to his ears his voice wavered. "I meant—as, um…" he swallowed nervously. _Confident, extroverted Mace scared stiff by a girl,_ he scoffed at himself mentally. "As…dates?"

Roxanne froze altogether. She had thought briefly, maybe, but…

Fight or Flight kicked in, and Roxanne dashed under one of Mace's arm, forgetting that that hand was attached to him, and making a mad dash for the window. It was only two stories; it couldn't hurt _that_ much, could it?

Mace yelped as he was pulled around, and dug his heels into the floor, causing Roxanne to meet resistance and fall backwards, toppling onto Mace and sending them both into a heap on the floor.

"What was that about?" Mace asked, breathless as he sat up on his elbow and looked down at Roxanne. "Are you alright?"

"I—I'm fine," Roxanne answered, looking around for a means of escape.

"Are you sure?" Mace asked, then realized something and set on of his hands on Roxanne's stomach. "I just realized—I saw Deldja kick you in the stomach. You told the doctor about that, right? And Law Enforcement? They know, right?" Roxanne flushed and shook her head.

"No," she mumbled, still on her back and making no move to sit up. She was, quite honestly, terrified. She'd read Catarche, that book where the girl has a freak of a mother and ends up paying the price by having blood dumped over her at a dance after someone pretends to be kind to her. Too late for everyone else it was realized that _that_ girl had been half Cryptonian, but Roxanne was no such thing, and would, therefore, have no defenses if he was planning something.

But then, she'd fallen for Mace _(hard)_ quite a while back...And staring up into his face, she _did_ feel like she had the best view in the world…And…Life _was_ supposed to be about taking chances, right?

"Why not?" Mace demanded, looking worried. "You can't let her get away with that! You can't go around hitting women in the stomach—there are three entire months before a women begins to show that she's pregnant, and just because you can't see it doesn't mean there couldn't still be a miscarriage!" Roxanne looked away in embarrassment.

"Well…I'm not pregnant," she pointed out, then added, "and I probably never will be." Mace darkened as he realized what Roxanne thought he was insinuating.

"I wasn't saying you were," he said quickly. "I was just saying that that's the kind of behavior that could become a habit or an instinct or something, and Deldja can't be doing that, and you need to tell someone at some point so that she gets what she deserves, and you never did answer my original question," he realized, his eyes looking hopeful. Roxanne stared up at him for another minute. She felt drunk. Her heart was pounding and her head was light, and his hand was on her stomach, and he was staring at her with those amazing green eyes that were so very unusual and amazing and bright, and she terrified and excited at the same time, and her throat was suddenly dry, and…

Roxanne suddenly realized that Mace was dressed up. It was the same thing he'd been wearing all day, but he looked _sharp,_ with his long black cape and the makeup smeared beneath his eyes…

"Su—sure," Roxanne croaked at last. "We—we'd love to."

"Huzzah!" Mace exclaimed, jumping to his feet and pulling Roxanne with him, twirling her around as he hopped and leaped spastically around the room, laughing all the while. Roxanne wanted to laugh, too, but then she thought of something, and the moment he put her down she shoved him away, much to his confusion.

"Just to make this clear," Roxanne said, "I am _not_ your charity case!" Mace blinked at her before laughing and shaking his head.

"Never," he agreed.

"And I'm—I'm not an animal," she added, remembering what Deldja had said earlier.

"Well, that's not true," Mace said pointedly. "We're all animals. Every single one of us is part of the Kingdom Animalia. You, Gilda, Myself, Minion, your parents, Deldja, Reptung, _my_ parents. To be Cerulean is to be an animal. It's a fact of life."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better or worse?" Roxanne asked cautiously. Mace just smiled and opened his mouth as if to speak, but the beeping of his watch made him pause. Looking down at it, he saw that it was the timer he'd set to alert him to when he needed to be home.

"Better," he answered quickly. "I have to go," he admitted. "I'll—I'll see you in school tomorrow," he promised, and came forward to touch heads with Roxanne. The contact lingered just like it had the last few times he'd done it, and this time Roxanne let her eyes close. She was still scared, but she felt…better. Safer, even. Was that normal? Or was it a human thing? Or maybe it was just something that only adhered specifically to her? What was she even questioning herself about anyway? Where in the world had her mind gone? It had been there just a few seconds ago…

Mace opened his eyes to remove himself, but reconsidered doing so when he looked into her face. Maybe it wasn't traditional beauty, but really…She was breathtaking. And she was so close right now—he could feel her breath against his cheek, and he felt the sudden urge to kiss her.

So he did.

The sudden feeling of his lips pressed against hers made Roxanne's eyes shoot open and her face turned red all over again. She found herself instinctively returning the gentle pressure he applied, and her eyes slipped shut again after a few seconds, her mind turned to mush and his brain in about the same state as he put his arms around her and pulled her to him.

Mace might have completely ignored the fact that he was expected to be home by six-thirty (he was still suffering from the lingering consequences of sneaking into Roxanne's room the week before), if it weren't for Minion opening the door with his own alarm sounding, a worried tone in his voice.

"Sir, if we aren't home soon, your parents were—oh!" the fish exclaimed, slapping a hand over his bowl as if to cover his eyes. Mace and Roxanne's eyes snapped open as he entered, and they quickly separated, their vasodilators immediately becoming stimulated all over again, which caused their peripheral capillaries to expand.

"Um, yes, Minion," Mace said, clearing his throat. "I, um, was just…Showing Roxanne how, um—Goodnight Roxanne!" Mace said quickly, turning and pushing Minion out the door and shutting it behind him.

Roxanne covered her face with her hands to try and cool it before she went to her bed and sat down beside Gilda's sphere, her heart pounding and her legs all aquiver.

"Mistress?" Gilda asked, looking up and blinking her eyes to clear them of sleep.

"Gilda!" Roxanne exclaimed, picking up the globe and hugging the fish to her. "You're awake."

"I'm broken," Gilda lectured, "not in a coma." Roxanne couldn't help but laugh. Gilda always knew just what to say.

"Did you sleep well?" Roxanne questioned, but before Gilda could answer, Mace and Minion came dashing back in.

"Sorry," Mace was shouting, "Sorry, sorry, sorry! But we forgot to leave this here—Minion, get in your sphere already," Mace hissed.

"It takes a few minutes for the mechanism to warm up, Sir," Minion said quietly.

"It's warming up?" Mace asked. "_Again?_ How many times have I told you to be sure that everything is set up ahead of time?"

"Why do you always blame me, Sir?" Minion whispered back.

"Because you're the one controlling this robotic body," Mace growled. "Now get in the sphere and let's—"

_Rrrrrring!_

"All right, Sir, all right; I'm coming, it's done." Minion made his way over to a small hole in the hammock and went through it, then floated out of sight for a brief moment before the center of the suit opened up and he came rolling out in his sphere. Mace grabbed him up, holding him close and drumming his fingers nervously against the glass as he smiled at Gilda and Roxanne.

"We will be seeing you," Mace stated. "Both of you. Gud—Goodnight, Roxanne, and Gilda, be well. We must be going now. Farewell!" he shouted before dashing out of the room, leaving Gilda's suit where it was. After a moment, Gilda looked back up at Roxanne.

"I slept well," she assured her Mistress. Roxanne gave the sphere a squeeze.

"I'm glad. Did you dream any?"

"I did dream some, yes."

"Were they pleasant?"

"Most of them, yes," the minion agreed. "They were, for the most part, very nice. But usually I have a hard time picking a favorite among my dreams, and this time one of them really stood out."

"What was it about?" Roxanne asked curiously, pulling her legs up onto the bed with her.

"It was the cutest thing," Gilda said with a knowing look in her eyes. "You were there, and Mace was there, and I was lying on this _same_ bed in my sphere, and you two were _dancing_ around the room…" Roxanne fell backwards and pulled her pillow over her head. It was safe to say that she'd never be mistaken for a Cryptonian again—after tonight, she was almost certain her face would _never_ go back to normal.

**Author Comments:**

**"Sty-Eyed Beholder" is a common phrase on Cerul, referring to someone who can't see anything beautiful about themselves even when they look their very best. It can also be used as an insult to call someone out on fishing for compliments by downplaying their positive attributes.**

**XDXD, oh, poor Mace. You're so flustered about your grammar!**

**Aww, laying on the floor like that...I ALMOST had them kiss right then and there. It certainly would have made for an awkward position for anyone to walk in on (even more of a Minion scramble!)! But then it just seemed more natural for Mace to get all excited and start dancing...And I really wanted Roxanne to be able to do the "I am NOT your charity project!" thing. :F**

**And then kisses! For all of you lovely fans of the tale who have been itching for one! ;)**

**And more Roxanne embarrassment. XDXD, poor Roxanne; even her minion loves to torture her!**


	24. All About Presentation

The first thing Mace did when he got home was call Krut. He was thankful to receive the pre-recorded "leave a message" bit he'd installed into the watch—Krut hadn't even changed it from Minion's basic, "I'm not in right now" message to a more personalized one—but then again, Mace now realized he'd forgotten to tell Krut how to do that, and the bigger boy probably didn't know how.

"Ollo, Krut," Mace greeted the empty watch. "I can see you're not on top of your watch right now—you're probably in cluss—class," he corrected quickly (Depending on the parts of Crypt and Cerul, the Cryptonian calendar ran anywhere from one day and two hours to four days and six hours ahead of Cerul's). "You're probably in class, so you'll get this message later in the day.

"Anyway, I wanted to notify you that Aida would rather you not visit—"

"Sir," Minion said in a warning tone from across the room.

"Oh, don't be a pill, Mignon," Mace said, covering the watch briefly with his hand.

"What does that even _mean,_ Sir?"

"I don't know—Krut used it on me the last time he was over. Now hush, I'll explain myself in—" A knock came on the door.

"Mace?" Mendje called. "It's time for second lunch!" Mace sighed.

"Be right there!" he called before uncovering the watch and looking back down at it. "I'm sorry, I have to go. But, yes. That's about the gist of it. We'll be in contact as always, my fair-skinned Cryptonian friend. So long!" Mace shut the watch down and he and Minion were quick to join the others for second lunch.

***Break***

"Well if it isn't our own Puritanical Bluenose!" Neren exclaimed, coming up and throwing his arm around Mace's neck as the boy entered the school.

"That's a complete redundancy," Mace pointed out, raising one eyebrow and lowering the other.

"Oh, don't _do_ that," Neren's twin sister Nistrom cried, holding her hands up and shuddering at the sight. "It's so _weird!_"

"Weird?" Neren asked, practically aghast at her choice of words. "You're talking to Mace Mind! He's the living symbol of weird turned upside down and stamped with society's highest approval rating! This guy makes weird look _cool!_" Mace laughed and shoved Neren playfully as they went walking down the hall. The other boy was shorter than him, with a slightly smaller head and almond-shaped, dark blue eyes. His face was short, his jaw square, and his face was covered in deep blue freckles that threatened to overtake it. On Crypt, Mace knew, they might have called him a ginger—though his face was currently smooth, his bright reddish-orange eyebrows stood out, and when he occasionally forgot to shave in the mornings, the small facial hairs were glaringly obvious against his dark skin.

He was more outwardly muscular than most, with wide shoulders and almost _bulging_ muscles—he was not, needless to say, a very attractive kid.

His twin sister was as identical as fraternal twins can be—she had the same eyes, the same face shape, the same height, and the same bright eyebrows as her brother, but her form was feminine rather man masculine, and musculature was not something she had at all.

"Nice to hear, Mr. Viper-blood."

"Hey, that stuff tastes _good,_" Neren insisted defensively. "Sure, they lie about all of the health concerns it alleviates, but at least I _know_ that!"

"You realize you can get a lot of diseases from animal blood, right?" Mace asked, quirking his brow again.

"He knows that," Nistrom answered for him, rolling her eyes at her brother. "He just refuses to acknowledge it."

"Well, I suppose I can't teach you what you already know," Mace said with a shrug, then looked around. "Your minions are in their wing, correct?" he asked.

"That would be accurate," Neren agreed. The Minion Wing of the school was where the minions congregated before classes to speak amongst one another and store things in their own special lockers, mostly little knickknacks or things that their Master or Mistress didn't want to keep on them and didn't trust to their own.

"Ah," Mace said with a nod. "I suppose Minion will be having this same conversation with Sincha and Chinsa, yes?"

"All except the first part," Nistrom agreed matter-of-factly. "Minion doesn't have the correct anatomical parts for Sincha to call him a bluenose. He'll probably call him a bluenostril instead—something with the equivalent meaning but without any elegance in the phrasing."

Neren opened his mouth with a finger raised as if to protest, then let out his breath and shook his head. "I can't fight with that," he admitted. "Sincha doesn't have the keenest grasp on the Cerulean language. _But,_ that doesn't make you and Minion any less bluenosed!"

"Are we really on this subject again?" Mace demanded, rolling his own eyes. "Why must you continue to harass me about never having dated? It is my choice, is it not?"

"Mace, you're going to be seventeen in two months," Neren pointed out, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "You'll be a legal man and never have so much as kissed a girl! And you! Such a looker, so popular with the ladies—"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Neren," Mace said, removing his friend's hand from his shoulder. "But I'm afraid you are most certainly _not_ a lady, and I am not exactly attracted to that type of organism." Nistrom giggled at Mace's suave turnaround, and Neren simply glared.

"You can just go right straight to Ferr," Neren growled, but he didn't really mean it, and the three of them all knew it.

"So, have you seen the Medulla twins?" Mace questioned, looking around. "Or the Parietal twins?" On Cerul, twins were very common—there was a good chance of getting them, and there was about a fifty-fifty chance that a pregnancy would result in twins. Actually, that result probably progressed with the generation, seeing as twins were more likely to have twins themselves…

"Oh-ho, don't go avoiding the subject, Macey boy! Seriously, it's unnerving."

"How is it unnerving that I've never dated?" Mace demanded. He didn't see any connection between the action (or lack thereof) and the emotion. Nistrom giggled again.

"He's jealous because his girlfriend keeps her eyes on you whenever they talk about the dance," she teased. Neren glared at her, but said nothing. Mace laughed.

"Don't worry about that, Neren," Mace said, clapping the shorter boy on the back. "You'll be happy to know that I just so _happen_ to already have a date for the dance," he answered confidently.

"And who might this new girlfriend be?" Neren asked, ever searching for the latest gossip. He was what Mace considered the better type of gossip—he wanted the information, but he generally kept it to himself. "I know it isn't Deldja—I heard you knocked her right over the other day during lunch. Which reminds me; what did she _do?_ I saw you get into an emergency vehicle with Minion, and I saw Deldja being led into a Law Enforcement vehicle, but no one knows anything but that—and that you planted a _pretty_ big bruise on her face."

"Well, first of all," Mace stated, blushing slightly, "she isn't necessarily my girlfriend. Yet," he added. "We're just going to the dance together. Second, I'm not sure I'll tell you who she is—I think I'll show you. And, third, Deldja attacked Aida Cerebellum. _Brutally,_" he added in a growl.

"The hughman?" Nistrom asked.

"Human," Mace corrected, and nodded. "Yes, the human girl."

"The one you've been sitting with at lunch?"

"That's the one."

"Reminding me yet again," Neren went on. "Does this mean you'll be eating lunch with us again? Spending less time with the Aida girl?"

"No," Mace answered with a confident smile. "In fact, I think I'll be spending even more time with her!"

"Your girlfriend isn't going to like that," Nistrom chided.

"I don't think she'll mind," Mace laughed. "I don't think she'll mind at all."

"That's convoluted logic if I ever heard it," Neren stated, but Mace waved him off. "So when exactly are you going to show us this girl of yours?" Neren asked.

"At the dance, of course!" Mace exclaimed. Neren and Nistrom both rolled their eyes.

"It's always a dramatic entrance with you, isn't it?" they asked together.

"Of course!" Mace exclaimed, turning as he walked and throwing his hands up, a grin planted on his face. "After all, it's all about the presentation!"

***Break***

"Roxanne," Mace exclaimed as he caught sight of her in the halls. "Ollo!" She flashed a smile and blushed before looking down again, Gilda keeping close to her. Gilda never went to the Minion's Wing. She kept close to her Mistress all day—some days it seemed like she was the only thing between Roxanne and a lynching, and while that had alleviated some, Gilda was determined to stick close to her, _especially_ with her real body damaged the way it was.

"Sorry I'm late," he added, catching up to her and Gilda with Minion close behind. "Neren and Nistrom kept pestering me."

"And Sincha and Chisna were the same with me," Minion added apologetically.

"Now," Mace announced, linking arms with her. "Let us get you to First Hour!"

"You don't have to link arms with me," Roxanne mumbled bashfully. "Everyone will think you're a freak like me."

"You're not a freak," Mace scoffed. "And the students at this shool are so closed-minded as far as you go; they'd never even consider it as anything more than strange. The racists," he added under his breath. "But it's good for now," he resumed with a grin. "I plan to shock them all when I show up to the dance with the prettiest girl in school on my arm—if that's all right with you," he added quickly.

"Sorry, Mr. Mind," Roxanne couldn't help but tease. "But you just helped put the prettiest girl in school behind bars."

"You're getting Sty-Eyed, Roxanne," Mace teased back as if to warn her. She might have shoved him if she wasn't completely overjoyed by the fact that he was _there._ Her heart…Wait. Her heart? Had it stopped beating? Oh God, it had! What was—

Mace cocked his head at her. "You're not…_supposed_ to turn blue like that, are you?" he asked uncertainly. Roxanne gasped, only to find her empty lungs filling up with air and her heart resuming its regular pace. She could have slapped herself—forgetting to breathe! How stupid was _she?_ "That looks better," he decided, smiling again as color returned to her face.

_I beg to differ,_ Roxanne couldn't help but think, certain that she'd look _much_ better blue, but held her tongue.

"By the way," Mace added, a little hop integrating itself into his stride, "I talked to my parents this morning, and they want to have you over for dinner tonight! Would that be all right?"

"Dinner?" Roxanne asked meekly. "With your parents?"

"Mhm," Mace agreed, not even noticing the quaver in her voice. "Mom hasn't had a chance to actually _meet_ you yet, and whenever Dad sees you he's either talking to someone else or checking to make sure you're still alive—not that that isn't important, but I'm sure it kind of stints the conversation, huh?"

Roxanne nodded. She couldn't argue with that—She preferred not to talk when she was being examined. She wasn't a very talkative person, and on top of that, it made her nervous.

"Isn't the male supposed to meet the female's family first?" she joked to try and cover up her discomfort. She'd never dined at anyone else's home before, and how was she to know what to expect from Mace's parents? She'd never actually met Mendje, as Mace had just pointed out, and while she was acquainted with Macklnn, she had no idea how he'd react to her actually being romantically inclined with his only son—she was an alien, after all…

"Oh, fie on that," Mace exclaimed with the toss of his free hand. "They want to meet you, and Mom has to leave again next week—there's a huge thing going on with all the Vassals on Crypt, and she needs to be there 'just in case.' I think it has to do with the illegal selling of sub-sub-kingdoms, and…I don't know," he admitted with a grimace. "I don't much care for pol-o-tics."

"Politics, Sir," Minion corrected quickly. Mace flushed.

"Yes, that's the one; thank you, Minion. Polo-_Politics._ I don't like them. My impediment doesn't either," he added, and Roxanne giggled. He immediately decided that sixteen years' worth of mispronunciations was all made worth it right then and there. "So what do you think?" he asked, suddenly excited all over again. "Do you think you can make it?"

"I'll ask my parents," Roxanne promised. "It's not like Gilda and I have other plans."

"Wonderful!" Mace cried, his enthusiasm causing his voice to rise in volume, garnering the attention of all passers by. Roxanne looked quickly down at her feet. If Mace hadn't been there, she would have immediately picked up her pace.

But the friendly Cerulean just waved at everyone who continued to stare, grinning jovially at them all. "Hello!" he greeted them all. "Such a wonderful day, isn't it?" Most of them laughed back and immediately agreed—they all knew who he was—and those who didn't looked quickly away, feeling ashamed for their less-than-kind glances.

"You've got that right!"

"It does seem like a good day to be alive!"

"Wonderful is an understatement!"

Roxanne just watched from the corner of her eye in silent disbelief at his ability to be so friendly with complete strangers and have them be friendly back. She didn't envy him though _(OK, maybe just the __**tiniest**__ little bit)._ She knew the names of all of the kids who were in her Year and a good number of the ones who weren't, and she wanted little to nothing to do with any of them. She had nowhere near the memory capacity the average Cerulean had, but she would _still_ never be able to forget every little thing each of them was guilty of. If given a list of all of her classmates and asked to separate their names into groups of who had abused her verbally, who had done so physically, and who had done both, it would take her all of five minutes.

Mace looked back to her and shook his head as he rolled his eyes in slight amusement. "People are ridiculous. But Gilda, my fine fishy friend's fishy friend! How are you doing? Feeling better?"

"Much," Gilda answered bluntly, absolutely stunned to have been spoken to so directly in such a public place. Realizing how rude that might have sounded, Gilda began stumbling over her own words as her brain kicked back on, that "if-minions-could-blush" look on her face again. "I mean, yes, I am, thank you, thank you very much for asking, and—um, thank you for—for modifying my suit, and for…well…everything."

"No trouble at all," Mace answered brightly. "It was my pleasure, and—_OOF!_" Mace failed to see the door to Roxanne's classroom standing propped open and dropped Roxanne's arm as he tumbled to the floor. Roxanne gasped and tossed herself down on the floor beside him.

"Are you alright?" she asked in concern, setting her hands on his arm. He blinked up at her, rubbing at where his cheek had met solid wood. He smiled (he was a naturally smiley person).

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed. Roxanne blushed and tried to keep from smiling herself.

"I think the fall must have scrambled your brains," she accused in good humor, pushing gently at his shoulder before helping him to stand. Mace sniffed the air as if trying to detect something.

"Hm," he pondered. "No. I most defiantly do not smell scrambled brains this morning, Miss Cerebellum."

"Do you mean defiantly, or did you mean definitely?"

"Well, it certainly doesn't matter if Mignon and I are late to Language, now, does it?" Mace asked, catching sight of the time. "We'll be seeing you next Hour, girls," he promised as they touched heads and the two boys dashed off down the hall. Roxanne giggled and Gilda smiled good naturedly as they watched them both crash into another boy and his own minion before the two headed into class.

It felt _so_ good not to have Deldja there.

**Author Comments: **

**The twin thing-Kinda not relevent to the story, but my head is all kinds of whacked up, and someone (LarkSparrow, I think) once asked about Metrocity's menstrual cycle on the Truth Or Dares, which made me think about the differences of fertility, and I decided that Ceruleans are (generally) more fertile. I could launch into my own secondary explanation about how it's less of a strain on resources and time in such an advanced society, especially with the minions to help with raising the kids and better diets and fertility whatnots and blah blah blah, but I'm not quite in the mood tonight. =P**

**AAAaaaaannnndddd...Yes. We met some of Mace's friends here! So that's fun, huh? Um...Yep. Um...I don't really think I'm missing any eplanations, am I? Everything else pretty self-explanatory? Yes? Good. Enjoy! :D**

**OH YES! HIOWEHGIUHKEJFGSIOFJ THE SECOND LUNCH! XDXD, Ceruleans, having a longer day than we do, have a few more meals. So yes. :F**


	25. A Forgotten, Extinct, BACKWARDS Culture

That night, Roxanne found herself at Mace's door, dressed in her best with Gilda at her side. She had barely knocked on the door when it was flung open by a beaming Mace, who practically pulled her into the house.

It wasn't a minute later that Macklnn and Mendje were giving her the warmest welcome Roxanne had ever received.

"Aida, it's good to see you again," Macklnn greeted, shaking her hand enthusiastically and smiling the same smile as his son. The two really did bear a striking resemblance.

"And you as well, Mr. Mind," Roxanne greeted, trying not to meet his eyes. Next Mendje came forward as Macklnn stepped back.

Roxanne jumped as Mendje put her arms around the girl. "It's so nice to meet you, Aida," Mendje said, smiling warmly at the girl as she withdrew from the hug. Roxanne couldn't help but notice that Mace had her eyes and eyebrows. "The last time I saw you, you were just a little baby."

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Mind. I'm sorry to say that I cannot remember having seen you before." Mendje laughed.

"Just call me Mendje, dear. Fid and Idna are still working on getting dinner ready—it might be a few minutes. Mace, why don't you take your girlfriend out back and show her the pod?" Mace flushed and Roxanne's face turned red.

"Um—yes, sure, that'd be—uh, Roxanne, Gilda, Minion; come! Let us away to the backyard!" Mace cried, grabbing Roxanne's hand and dashing out the door before anyone could say anything else to embarrass the both of them.

"So they _know?_" Roxanne asked as they exited the house.

"Well they certainly know that I'm taking you to the dance, but I as-ure you that I never said that you were my grillfriend," he said quickly, still purple from embarrassment.

"You didn't?" Roxanne asked, overlooking his mispronunciations again and feeling the smallest bit dejected.

"Well, no, of course not! I mean—not that I don't want you to be, but it's just it's only the dance and I didn't want to rush you into any—let's get to the pod now, shall we?" Mace asked in an attempt to remove his foot from his mouth, motioning out into the grounds. Roxanne smiled a little and looked to Gilda, who flashed her Mistress a smile and a thumb's up. "Come on, quick, before we lose daylight," Mace beckoned, taking Roxanne's hand again. "It's just over that hill there…"

***Break***

The Mind estate was enormous. The house itself was nothing short of grandiose, but the grounds swept in three directions for miles. There was more land under their ownership than they'd ever know what to do with, and one could easily get lost if they didn't know their way around. But Mace, who had traversed every inch of the estate at least a dozen times in the course of his lifetime, knew exactly how to get anywhere he wanted and in the shortest amount of time.

It wasn't more than ten minutes before Mace was punching codes into the door of a relatively huge craft at the center of a crater that stood fifty feet at its deepest point and one hundred feet in diameter. The craft was really kind of small, but compared to the escape pods stored in the back room of every Cerulean home, it was oversized and bulky.

Roxanne's eyes were wide as she gazed around at the walls of the crater. "I landed…_here?_" she asked in slight disbelief.

"Well of course!" Mace laughed. "Where did you _think_ you landed?" Roxanne shook her head.

"I knew the pod was kept here, but I never actually thought…I mean, I landed so _close_ to where I live now...It just seems kind of unlikely." Mace simply smiled and shook his head as his hand went to a lever. With the downward thrust of his arm, the door sprang inward.

Mace stepped in, holding the door open for Roxanne and their minions. "This, Roxanne, is what you are," he said with the sweeping of his arm to encompass the craft's insides. Roxanne's mouth parted and Gilda's eyes went wide as they took tentative steps into the vehicle that had carried a young Roxanne, her surname then being Ritchi, across space and time with no company but for a tiny kitten and a stuffed creature inexplicably called a "teddy bear."

Roxanne felt as though she were stepping into the past, into another world. It was a strange feeling, and a part of her was frightened that if she stayed still for too long, the craft would take flight, and she would be back to hurtling through the galaxies. Most of her, though, felt as if she did not belong here, as if she did not belong to the past into which she stepped, nor was she welcome in this strange new world.

Gilda looked upon the scene with a certain degree of reverence. Monitors were built into nearly every inch of wall, each displaying a different picture. Images of people that looked just like Roxanne, overviews of jungles and mountains and lakes and cities. Buildings towered, primitive-looking vehicles were frozen in place on filthy-looking black roads, and animal life abound. Some of it looked so similar to the things they had on Cerul—there were little chifflings in the arms of pale children and a bird on one woman's arm—but a few of the things they took note of looked like nothing on their own blue planet. There was a gigantic water creature with a hole at the top of its rectangular head, the body colored bluish-gray, and beside it swam a smaller something, silver-gray with a fluke and dorsal fin, as well as two pectoral fins. This, too, had a small blowhole, and a long beak, its mouth half-open as it swam toward the screen.

There was a control board in the corner beneath a cluster of smaller screens that clearly served the crucial function of animating the images shown to them on the primitive screens.

And directly across from the door, firmly attached to the wall, was a small seat designed specifically for a child no older than two and no younger than six months.

It was to this that Roxanne first gravitated, venturing hesitantly into the ship as if she wasn't sure she was allowed to be here. Gilda followed her Mistress at a distance while Mace and Minion stood in the doorway, simply observing the two females. They had been here many times before, had already unlocked just about every secret this vessel held. They didn't need to get in the way.

Roxanne slowly lowered herself onto her knees as she inspected the infant seating arrangement. It was so simple as to be indescribable, but it fascinated her nonetheless.

Then her gaze trailed upward to rest on the screen directly above it. The face of a man and a woman, the same color as Roxanne, could thereupon be seen. The man had hair of black and eyes of blue, and he looked happy even though sorrow echoed in his eyes. His face was crossed with laughter lines.

The woman beside him looked like Roxanne aged…How many years? How long did it take for her people to age? She couldn't say, but if she were to go by Cerulean standards, she'd say maybe forty years. The woman had the same brown hair, albeit longer and pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. She had the same face shape as Roxanne, the same eyes…Even the same beauty mark on her right cheek.

Roxanne's fingers strayed, again, hesitantly, to the small red button just above the seat and below the monitor. It was the only screen in the room not activated by the control panel in the corner.

She pressed the button with a certain reserve, not quite sure what to expect from the man and woman who had given birth to her.

Of course, she shouldn't have expected originality.

The message began as a voice recording of the note that had been tucked beside her when she and Quicksilver had landed—but Roxanne tried not to think about Quicksilver. Why she didn't just move on, she didn't know. But she supposed there was a little piece of her that desperately wanted to know what they sounded like.

"To whoever finds this message," the woman spoke, Roxanne with her. "We hope that you can find a way to decipher our language. We hope that one day our daughter may be able to listen to our message and to understand it.

"Whoever you are, if indeed there is another race out there willing to adopt our daughter, we wish you well, and we thank you for taking her as your own. She is everything to us, everything to our people. Her destiny is our legacy, and we hope that her destiny is great.

"We are of the human race. The creature we send with our daughter is her kitten, named Mercury, and the object is her teddy bear. They are intended to supply companionship and comfort, and perhaps give insight into our culture. It lives on through what we send to you.

"Our planet, Earth, is hours away from being sucked into a black hole that has somehow appeared at the edge of our solar system. We'll all be dead by the time our daughter reaches you, _if_ she reached you."

"All the information that we could gather in a matter of days is stored within this very same pod," the man said, picking up the narrative where his wife _(Roxanne wondered if they used that sort of terminology on Earth)_ left off. "All that we send is all that is left of us. Take care of her," the man added, his grip on his wife tightening visibly as they looked into the camera. "Keep her safe."

"If you're watching this, darling," the woman added, "we want you to know that we love you. We wish you the best for all eternity."

And there the transmission ended. Just plain ended. No "goodbye," no heartfelt sentiment, no critical piece of trivial information that could make Roxanne feel even the slightest _hint_ of sympathy for her long-dead people. Mace watched her carefully, taking note of her facial movements and the way she bowed her head.

"Are you OK?" he asked after a moment. Roxanne shook her head, and Gilda helped her to stand.

"They didn't even mention my name," Roxanne answered contemptuously. "They at least did that in the letter. They never mentioned my name, they never explained why it was that _I_ was chosen to go away—nothing! They don't even give their own _names!_" She looked down and shook her head again, gripping either arm just below the shoulders with the opposite hand.

"Mom always tells me that I should be proud of where I came from," she said. "But I know barely anything about that place, and even if I sift through all of the information on this craft, it still won't make up for the fact that these people who are supposed to be my parents can't even muster up the slightest bit of false affection. I guess I thought maybe they'd seem more real and sincere if I saw them with my own eyes—but all they imply is that I have to make sure the human race doesn't die, and that that's my only purpose. They don't smile, they don't sound anything but factual—they act like dagging machines!"

Gilda pulled Roxanne into a hug, but somehow Mace found himself pulling her out of that hug and into his own. "Maybe they were just too worried to bother with emotions?" he suggested. "Maybe they thought that if they left themselves feel they wouldn't be able to stop crying? That they wouldn't be able to give you up?"

"Maybe," Roxanne answered, leaning her head against Mace's shoulder. "But maybe they just didn't care. Maybe that's why I was chosen. Maybe they offered me up. Or maybe I wasn't even theirs. Maybe they adopted me. That'd be ironic. Adopted twice in the space of a year and a half."

"Are you sorry that they sent you?"

"What? No! I'm _glad_ I'm not there! They probably had some backwards culture, anyway. I just…I just wish I had more to be proud of." Mace nodded. He understood, not in practice, but in theory, and he felt for her. But it was nice to know she was happy here.

"Do you want to look at the other videos?" he asked. "The primitive technology is really quite fascinating in and of itself, but the truly _amazing_ part is the depictions of the otherworldly creatures and cultures—they still had people who lived in forest treebs—"

"Tribes, Sir," Minion corrected.

"Yes, that, too," Mace agreed, moving on quickly. "And different governments—they had more than _one hundred governments_ just in their alliance! Can you believe that? On one planet! Amazing!" Roxanne smiled.

"Maybe some other time," she said. "You could tell me about it, though. I'd like that."

"Oh ho ho!" Mace laughed. "I can very well do so, Miss Cerebellum! I'll tell you about your country while we go back to the house, come on! Apparently your family lived in this _huge_ mass of land called 'Ameerica—'"

"America."

"Yes, yes, America, and it was made up of all these tiny little sections called 'states' and one 'terr-i-tory,' and each one had its own government that acted under the main government, and it had the _strangest_ setup…"

**Author Comments:**

**Roxanne is an unusual adoptee in that she has NO desire to meet the people who gave birth to her...**

**ALSO: Sorry I haven't been updating in a while. :F**


	26. Let's Not Talk About Siblicide

"And _that_ is why politics is the most boring game this side of the Void Galaxy!" Macklnn asserted, causing everyone to laugh, Roxanne and Gilda included.

The dinner table was ten times more animated than Roxanne had ever expected. It was very obvious that Mace's charisma, energy, and sense of humor were paternal, where his open disregard for some very basic rules (like, say, _not_ inviting an alien to the school dance) he got from his mother.

Roxanne decided that she liked his parents.

"How about you, Aida?" Mendje asked the girl. "What's your take on politics?"

Roxanne blushed and looked down. "Well—it isn't my place to say," she said quietly. Much as she liked them, it didn't change the nervous anxiety she felt at being anywhere near here, or the quiet, shy nature she'd been imbued with the moment she began school at the age of three.

Eye contact was one of the first things her peers had taught her to avoid, especially when speaking.

"But I think Overlord Cadrid is doing as well as any Overlord can be expected to do. There haven't been any uprisings during his rule, Cerul continues to run smoothly, and the peace treaty between Cerul and Crypt holds well. Unless he does something drastic, I don't see any assassination in his future, nor any pleas for such an action."

"See!" Macklnn demanded, gesturing to Roxanne. "Even Aida agrees. You're the only one with any thoughts to the contrary."

"I just don't see the taxes as sitting well with the lower class," Fid insisted.

"Fid, no one likes taxes," Idna pointed out. "Ever. But they're much better than they were thirty years ago, and that's what counts."

"Overlord Fanwllk did an excellent job siring children," Mendje agreed. "But he did a _terrible_ job with the planet's treasuries."

"Children?" Mace asked. "I thought Overlord Cadrid was a singular child?"

"He had a twin sister," Macklnn replied. "She was a really sweet girl, too, if I remember correctly—everyone loved her to pieces, and she was on the HWP frequently as a teenager, working in shelters and volunteering at hospitals. But when their parents died, she just sort of dropped off the face of Cerul. No one's seen her since."

"Do you think she was killed?"

"Anything's possible. They were twins, so the title of Overlord would have been decided between the two of them. If she wanted it, but he wanted it more…"

"That's just _horrible,_" Gilda said from her place between Roxanne and Minion. Roxanne agreed wholeheartedly. She could see hating your sibling enough to not want anything to do with them, but to actually _kill_ them? That was just sick.

"Let's just change the topic," Mendje decided. "No one wants to talk about sororicide at the table. Aida, Mace tells us you're going to be on Wave 16 in a few weeks?"

"Oh. Yes," Roxanne agreed, nodding her head in the affirmative. "I'd almost forgotten."

"It does sound like a lot has been going on lately," Macklnn agreed. "How is Gilda feeling? Better, I hope?"

"Much better, Sir," Roxanne agreed. "Thank you for your concern."

"I heard your parents pressed charges. Is there going to be a trial?" Roxanne nodded.

"The trial is set for Fanadastday."

"Minion and I are going to be questioned as witnesses," Mace added. This surprised Gilda and Roxanne. Macklnn and Mendje were not so fazed.

"We wish you the best of luck," Mendje extended. Roxanne nodded.

"Thank you," she accepted.

"So you want to be a reporter?" Macklnn asked, switching topics suddenly and without warning. Over the course of the last half hour or so, Roxanne had come to understand that that was normal. She was fine with it.

It kept things from getting awkward.

***Break***

The rest of the evening passed quickly and without too much fanfare. It was rather pleasant, and Roxanne enjoyed herself.

The meeting had gone a lot better than she had expected.

When she and Gilda headed home, they declined Mace and Minion's offer to walk them home, but the two boys stood in the doorway waving until the girls disappeared from sight.

"She's a nice girl," Mendje said, coming up behind Mace and setting a hand on his shoulder.

"I honestly always thought you'd bring home a girl with a little more spark, though," Macklnn admitted, scratching at his chin. Mace grinned.

"You should see her when she's angry. It's like an inferno."

"Well, try not to light her fire too often, Son," Macklnn chuckled, clapping Mace on the back. There was a short moment of silence before he spoke again. "You realize you two can't be alone in the lab anymore."

Mace's face turned violet.

**Author Comments:**

**UGH. TRANSITION CHAPTER. I HATE YOU.  
>I would have skipped over it altogether had I not wanted to do that last little exchange there at the bottom. (FYI, the lab walls are soundproof. ;) )<br>Next chapter will be in court. Just a heads up. WE GET TO TAKE A LOOK AT THE CERULEAN JUSTICE SYSTEM! What will my demented mind come up with? Let us find out...**


	27. Justice Is Kind Of Served

Roxanne stepped into the courtroom two days later. She paused, taking a sudden deep breath and freezing up as she caught sight of the jury, 18 teenagers between her age and Deldja's. She almost stepped right back out again.

Somehow it seemed that all of their cold eyes were turned on her, and she felt she might come to regret doing this.

But that was ridiculous. She wasn't the one on trial. She was on the accusing side. Even if she lost, there couldn't be any consequences.

Still, Roxanne lowered her eyes, bent her head, and walked quickly to where she would sit beside her lawyer, Gilda close behind.

She didn't know any of the teenagers—that was good. They would be from neighboring school districts to insure that there was no bias, around her and Deldja's age so that they would truly be peers. There was only one adult among them, an old woman with sharp yellow eyes and a disapproving frown. She would be the Forewoman.

Isst leaned forward from her seat in the front row and squeezed Roxanne's shoulder reassuringly. Roxanne smiled at her mother, turning just in time to see Mace and his family enter the room through the thick wooden doors that reached to the ceiling and separated them all from the outside world. Her smile widened a little, and the boy waved as he saw her looking in his direction.

She blushed.

"R. Aida Cerebellum," the Forewoman called, standing up from where she sat at the center of the Jury. That was a new way to call on her.

Roxanne rose, and the Forewoman nodded for her to sit down before she went on with role call, her sharp eyes now covered by delicate half-moon spectacles as she scanned the page clasped in her long, wrinkled fingers.

"Deldja Conmesu Cortex."

Deldja stood on the other side of the room. Roxanne felt a spiteful pang of satisfaction when she saw that Deldja had already been cuffed, her perfect body covered in drab gray prison scrubs that made her look rather shapeless—if she could be said to have a shape, it would have to be described as rectangular. She shouldn't be that pleased, but who would blame her? Certainly not Gilda, Mace, Minion, Isst, Loral, Civ, or Rit, who all took the same angry pleasure in seeing her physical appearance displayed the way it should.

The rest of the role was called accordingly, and there was a pause as the Forewoman shuffled through her papers. From the corner of her eye, Roxanne spotted a man in the background who was holding filming gear. It was with a small jolt that she realized this was being Waved.

It was with a jolt nowhere near small that she realized she was making history.

"I am Forewoman Oustken Broca," the Forewoman stated. "I will be presiding over this case. At the end of the trial, the Jury will have their collective say on the subject matter. I will, however, have the final say. The trial will last at most two days. If for any reason the trial is interrupted, it will begin again. Only witness testimony and proof may be permitted in this courtroom. Hearsay will not be allowed, and any use of Hearsay _will_ be used against your side, no exceptions.

"Deldja Cortex," Forewoman Broca went on, "you have been charged with unaggravated assault and two counts of attempted murder, classified as a hate crime. Flooze Cortex, you have been charged with the same. Mr. Somatic, is there anything you would like to add to that?"

"No, Ma'am. Those are the sole charges," Roxanne's lawyer said, standing as he spoke and seating himself again.

"Very good. Ms. Gustatory, how does your client plead?"

"My client pleads neither innocent nor guilty."

"Oh? Please, Ms. Gustatory," Forewoman Broca said with a dry tone and the wave of her hand, "explain to the court how that is."

"Whether or not my client committed the crimes she has been charged with, the fact remains that Aida Cerebellum is not Cerulean." Roxanne cast her eyes down, hair falling in her face. Gilda bit her tongue. Mace sat on his hands, and Loral grabbed Isst to keep her from leaping to her feet. "She therefore has no Cerulean rights, and cannot bring any charges into trial. If her adoptive family would like to bring the case up on grounds of animal cruelty, it would be a different matter, but…"

"My daughter is as much a Cerulean as anyone else, Krint!" Isst shouted, managing to break free of her husband's grasp. "How _dare_ you call her an animal! I will—"

"Mrs. Cerebellum!" The Forewoman's sharp, clipped tone carried well and caused Isst to quiet, if only temporarily. "Sit back down or Law Enforcement will be called! And as for your claims, Ms. Gustatory," Broca went on as Loral forced Isst to sit back down, keeping his hands placed firmly on either shoulder, "they do not carry. I'm sure Mr. Somatic can tell you better than I can why his client can, indeed, charge your client with attempted murder," she added, motioning for Roxanne's lawyer to stand.

The man, clad in a long brown cape (that was closer to a cloak, being that it had a hood) and skin-tight Yikberry robe, stood again and cleared his throat.

"In the year 12467.28 S.K.D. an amendment was made to Cerulean law that should a sentient life-form from another planet, people, or sector, particularly an infant, become a part of Cerul through birth, naturalization, trade, conquest, or through being brought or sent, that life-form should, in every legal sense, be considered a full Cerulean. This was made to allow the sentient creature an existence as close to normalcy as possible, prevent any underhand lawyer searching for ways to deny them justice, and also to insure that should they break the law, they could not use the same excuse to get out of punishment."

"Thank you, Mr. Somatic," the Forewoman said as the man sat back down, flashing Roxanne a confident and reassuring smile. He seemed to sense her anxiety, because he next confided,

"don't worry, Kid. We have this case by the ankles." This assuaged her doubt some, but Roxanne still gripped Gilda's furry arm beneath the table for comfort.

Gilda was glad to give it.

"So which will it be, Ms. Gustatory? Innocent or guilty?"

"My client pleads innocent," Gustatory answered, seating herself again. Roxanne watched as she flashed Deldja a crafty smile. She clearly hadn't expected that defense to work anyway.

Roxanne's grip on Gilda tightened.

"Well then," Broca said, looking back to Somatic. "Would you like to make your first move?"

"I would, Your Honor," Somatic agreed, standing yet again and stepping away from the table at which Roxanne and Gilda still sat. "I would like to request to say a few words first."

"The request follows," Broca said with a nod.

"I would like to begin by simply stating that there is no doubt in my mind that the accused cannot be deemed innocent. That being said, I would like to call Aida Cerebellum to the stand on her own behalf, if it should please the court."

"R. Aida Cerebellum," Broca called, "step forward and take your place at the front of the congregation." With some degree of hesitation, Roxanne detached herself from Gilda, stood, took a look around, and made her way to the tall stand at the very front of the room. Taking the steps one at a time up to the seat that overlooked the room, Roxanne tried to stop shaking, taking slow, deep breaths and telling herself everything was fine.

She had seen a few trials on HWP. They were like games of chess (chess being a funny game, not in humor of course, but in that it had developed in both Cerulean and Cryptonian cultures at around the same time, long before space travel had been invented). Every move was careful and calculated, and the story that unfolded was often weaved in an almost beautiful manner, if you stepped back far enough.

Step back any farther than that, and you found that the beauty became robotic and void of Ceranity. That was when a certain degree of terror hit the viewer, and though one might scramble closer in an effort to delve back into the beauty, or even just the tedium of the back-and-forth, what had been seen could not be unseen.

Ever.

"Aida," Somatic said, making sure to cheat, "could you tell those in attendance what it is that happened earlier this week between you, your minion, Deldja, and Flooze?" Roxanne paused a moment to collect herself, closing her eyes before beginning to speak in a voice that belied both her anxiety and personality.

"Gilda and I were headed to First Lunch. We had waited until everyone was out of the halls to make our way there so that we wouldn't be trampled, and because the things in my locker space had been taken out and strewn about the floor by another student, which took some time to clean up and off.

"I believe it was two, maybe three corridors from the lunch room that Deldja and Flooze stopped us. Deldja threw me against one wall and Flooze threw Gilda against the other. Deldja started yelling at me about my choice in company—or, really, my company's choice in company—and she said some very nasty things—"

"Would you mind sharing some of those things with the court?" Somatic asked.

"She called me an animal and told me I was never to get anywhere near any man ever. She threatened that if I ever did anything she had just told me not to, she would find a way to make my life more miserable than it was. I said no, and she subsequently broke my nose. Gilda tried to help, but Flooze shoved her into the wall, and her dome broke open.

"Deldja threw me against the wall again, and I hit my head and fell down. She started kicking me, and Gilda managed to flop over to Deldja and bite her hand. Deldja threw her off and into the wall, and that was when Mace and Minion came running in and saved us."

"Saved you?" Roxanne nodded. "How so?"

"Minion scooped Gilda into his bowl and Mace pinned Deldja down. When she head-butted him, he ran after her and knocked her to the ground, then came back to me and Gilda to make sure we were alright before going for help."

"Is that all for this round?" Broca asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. That will be all for this round."

"Ms. Gustatory, would you like to counter-interrogate?"

"Yes, Your Honor, I believe I would," Gustatory agreed, standing. She looked very young. As in, 'just out of law school' young. This was probably one of her first cases. "Ms. Cerebellum," she began, but Roxanne cut her off.

"Ms. Gustatory," Roxanne stated, "I would like to warn you that nothing you could ask me would help your case at all. Deldja has never said a kind word to me, nor has she ever refrained from being violent. This is not the first time I have suffered pain with Deldja as the direct cause, and I'm sure it won't be the last. If she and Flooze hadn't tried to kill Gilda, this would have become just one more notch on her doorframe. You may ask me as many questions as you like, but you would do better asking a common field rodent to say a kind word about the predatory bird that has devoured it."

There were some small smiles among the jury and those attending to support one side or the other, and Gustatory floundered. Roxanne gave a closed-mouth smile that was nigh on a smirk and radiated a firm confidence she simply did not posses, her eyes solemn as she waited for the woman to catch herself.

"What was it you said to Deldja before she 'attacked' you?" Gustatory finally asked, bringing herself back around and making air quotes.

"Before the initial verbal attack, I said nothing."

"And after?"

"I said no. The basics of what I said are 'no, you do not control me.'"

"Are you sure that's all you said?"

"I am not one to instigate conflict, Ms. Gustatory. In the twelve years I have been in school, I have found that to be completely ignored is much better than to be noticed, especially when being noticed calls for negative consequences. I would have agreed to every single one of Deldja's terms had she not demanded that I give up any chances of finding companionship, the only positive attention I had ever known outside of my home, and what could very well be the only chance I ever have at procuring some credentials within the occupation I wish to pursue." Roxanne cast her gaze to Forewoman Broca.

"May I, in light of Ms. Gustatory's clear incompetence in defending her client, remove myself from the witness stand?"

Forewoman Broca nodded, her sharp eyes somewhat dulled as she tried very hard not to smile.

Even still, the corners of her mouth were turned upward ever-so-slightly.

"The motion follows," Broca agreed, motioning for Roxanne to go. Roxanne stood, bowed to Broca, and made her way down the steps.

The moment she sat down, Roxanne let out a huge breath and leaned against Gilda. Gilda wrapped an arm protectively around her Mistress, and Roxanne turned back only briefly to smile wanly at her parents, then extending her smile to Mace when he flashed her a discreet thumbs-up. Then she turned back around and closed her eyes.

Roxanne was suddenly exhausted.

"Would you like to call a witness of your own to the stand?"

"I would like to call forth Deldja Cortex in her own defense. Does this please the court?"

"It does. Deldja Conmesu Cortex, please rise and make your way to the stand." Deldja was quick to comply, shooting Roxanne a glare of death as she made her way past.

Roxanne returned the gaze with one that was totally without emotion. She then dipped her head and smiled as Deldja took the stand, knowing without looking that the recording equipment had caught the glare.

It wouldn't look good on HWP.

"Deldja, would you please give your version of the events that transpired three days previously?"

"Yes, thank you. I was walking down the hall, completely content to talk with Flooze while we made our way to lunch. Then, out of nowhere, Aida comes bulleting down the hall with her minion in tow, and shoved me against the wall. She started shouting at me about leaving Mace Mind alone and staying away from her brother, and when I tried to ask her what she was talking about, she punched me in the face.

"Of _course,_ Flooze tried to pry her off of me, but Gilda wouldn't let her, so Flooze fought back. Aida managed to get me on the ground and started kicking me in the sides, so Flooze tossed Gilda up against a wall and tried to tear Aida off me, hitting her in the head, the sides, kicking her in the legs—and she tried to be really careful about it, too, so she wouldn't hurt her too much.

"Flooze managed to get her on the ground, and I tried to keep Gilda away from Flooze, but Gilda leaped out of her tank and bit my hand. I threw her off, and _that_ was when Mace and Minion came rushing down the hall with flowers that I'm almost certain were meant for _me,_ but Aida turned around and used her mind-control powers to force Minion to break Gilda's dome and make them think it had happened differently before they rushed off to get her and Gilda help."

"That Klint," Isst hissed, just barely audible from Roxanne's position. "How _dare_ she—"

"Shh," Loral said in hushed tones. "Settle down. Law Enforcement isn't kind to those who cause complications in a trial, and we don't want have to go through this twice." Isst sighed and physically forced herself to calm down.

"All right," she relented. "All right, I'm calm. I'm settled."

"Mind control?" Gustatory asked. "Please explain."

"Aida's brother told me she had mind control powers and was using them on Mace and Minion Mind."

"Objection!" Somatic cried, standing straight up.

"Miss Cortex, have you any solid evidence that Miss Cerebellum has powers of mind control?"

"…No, Your Honor." Broca nodded.

"I thought not. Let the Jury and all those assembled take conscious note that Miss Cortex has used Hearsay not only as part of the trial, but as the sole basis of the truth of her statements. Have you anything else, Ms. Gustatory?"

"Yes, Your Honor. Deldja, has this happened before?"

"Oh yes," Deldja lied, nodding vigorously. "Aida is always instigating. She's always making trouble and picking fights for no reason. I think she has a personality disorder."

"Objection!" All eyes turned to Mace, who stood on his seat, looking outraged. "No one can be said to have developed a personality disorder until the age of seventeen, and furthermore—"

"Mr. Mind," Forewoman Broca snapped (his reputation preceded him), her eyes hard and sharp again. "Sit down this _instant!_ One more outburst from either you or Mrs. Cerebellum and Law Enforcement _will_ be called!" Mace bowed his head and sat back down.

"My apologies," he extended, and Broca nodded somewhat dismissively.

"In spite of the untimely nature of his outburst, Mr. Mind does, however, have a point," Broca stated. "Miss Cortex, I very much doubt that you have a degree in psychology, and he is correct in stating that a personality disorder cannot be had until the age of seventeen at the least. I would suggest you pay better attention in your classes. Please consider rephrasing your statement."

"Well, she clearly has _something_ wrong with her!" Deldja snapped, clearly irritated at having been both corrected _and_ interrupted. "She always says everyone is picking on her, but no one has ever so much as said a single mean word to her."

"_Please,"_ Reptung huffed, and was quickly silenced as Loral's elbow met his rib.

"You have no place to say anything on that front, young man," Loral growled sternly. "You will recall yourself that your punishment is still valid, and will be repeated tonight just as it has been the past few days."

Reptung growled and mumbled under his breath.

"Have you anything else to ask, Ms. Gustatory?"

"No, Your Honor. I'd like to end my round, thank you."

"Mr. Somatic, would you like to counter-interrogate the witness?"

"No, Your Honor," Mr. Somatic said with an easy smile. "I don't think, at this point, anything else Miss Cortex could say could help our case any more than it already has."

"Miss Cortex, you may seat yourself," Broca bade.

Deldja left the stand without so much as a nod toward the Forewoman.

Somatic's smile widened.

Roxanne shook her head with a smile of her own.

Gustatory facepalmed.

***Break***

Gilda was the next to be called to the stand, and then Flooze. Both of them testified in the same fashion as their Mistresses, and no new information was shared.

Next called were Roxanne and Gilda's respective doctors, who showed pictures and X-rays of their wounds, as well as shared the medical files in which Gilda's surgery and Roxanne's injuries were carefully documented, each step recorded by an onlooker—Cerulean medical files were always very detailed and extensive.

Deldja's parents were called to the stand, but having seen nothing but the bruises on their daughter's face and sides, none of which were particularly bad, they were not much help with the case. Even Minion was called to the stand on Roxanne's behalf.

Finally, it was Mace's turn to take the stand, and he did so with an aura of growing irritation, repressed energy, and forced calm.

"What impression do you have of the defendant?" Somatic asked the young man.

"The only good thing that can be said about Deldja Cortex is that she is, by traditional standards, attractive and has enough intelligence to get by."

"Oh? And what comes to mind when you think of—"

"Objection!" Gustatory exclaimed. "Your Honor, this trial is not a test of my client's character, but rather a trial to determine guilt."

"I retract the question," Somatic said before Broca could order it. "What about Miss Cerebellum? Does she seem the violent type?"

"Not at all."

"And how long have you known the two of them?"

"I have known Deldja since Second Year. In technicality, I have known Aida from the time she literally landed in my backyard. I have known her in a more accurate sense for a matter of weeks."

"Would you tell us what happened on the date in question?"

"With pleasure. I was late to school for a number of reasons which I'll not go into now. As Minion and I came from our lockers, we stopped and watched as Deldja kicked repeatedly at Aida's legs, ribs, chest, head _and_ stomach—" Most of the women in the audience winced, and a few clutched at their own stomachs.

One of those women was Deldja's own mother.

"—and then Gilda leaped up and bit into Deldja's hand in an attempt to stop her while Flooze attempted to catch her—I assume to hold her off, though knowing Deldja, she may have wanted to crush her herself. Deldja stopped kicking Roxanne long enough to throw Gilda into a wall, and Minion and I reacted as quickly as we could. I pinned Deldja to the ground, and she tried to throw me off by hitting me between the eyes with her head. I ran after her, punched her in the cheek, and kicked her several times to keep her down while I left Minion to tend to Aida and Gilda and went for help. When we returned, Law Enforcement led Deldja and Flooze away, and Minion and I helped Gilda and Aida into the Emergency Vehicle."

"And what, may I ask, is your take on Miss Cortex's theory that you and your minion were brainwashed?"

"I'd like to refer to Alshzheck's blade, Sir; the simplest possible answer is the most likely to be correct until proven otherwise. Which is more likely—that Deldja is lying, or that Aida Cerebellum has an ability to control minds _so_ powerful that she can force Minion and me to misremember the events that occurred _and_ make everyone think she's the victim in a situation where she is, according to Deldja, an antagonist, and yet Deldja, a C student, and her minion, are the _only_ ones who can see past it?"

Somatic smiled and held his hands out, looking to the Jury. "Ladies and gentlemen," he proclaimed, "I rest my case."

Without fear of repercussions, Roxanne did not cross her fingers as she waited for the Jury to return. But she did hope against all hope that the Jury was comprised of students more alike in mind to Mace than any other and that she would see justice done as it should be.

Maybe if Deldja got her Just Deserves, Roxanne could find a way to live happily ever after? She would go to the dance with Mace, without Deldja to lead them, the throng would become slowly more accepting of the alien creature who was akin in body to a Cryptonian and in mind to a Cerulean, but wholly unique in persona, she would go on air with the 16th Wave in a few weeks, be promised a full-time position when she was through with school, and…

Roxanne shook herself to avoid drifting off into fantasy. That was a ridiculous premise, but the basis remained the same—Deldja was without contest in her place as Supreme Overlord of Causing Aida Physical and Emotional Pain, and the saying held true—cut off the head and the rest will die. Even if, like poultry, the body continued to jerk spasmodically and even continue on in patterns that pretended to be the result of conscious effort, it would eventually lie still.

When the Forewoman filed back in, the Jury coming in behind and standing around the back entrance, the room tensed.

Broca made her way to the stand and cleared her throat.

"It is with regret that I state that the Jury was evenly divided," she announced with lips pursed. "But regardless of the Jury's station, it was I from the beginning who would make the final decision. Deldja Conmesu Cortex, you have been found guilty on all counts."

There were a (very) few gasps, and Deldja's confident exterior seemed to suddenly melt away. The reality of doing hard time must have finally hit her, because she looked devastated.

"Unfortunately," Broca went on, "the law protects minors to an extensive degree. Being that you have not actually committed a murder, you will _not_ be serving time."

Deldja's confident smirk returned tenfold, and Roxanne closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. It was stupid of her to so much as imagine a world without Deldja, but for just a second it had been _so_ close…

"You will be punished to the full extent of the law even still. Deldja Cortex, you will be placed on full probation for a period of six years." Hope flared, but Roxanne had yet to raise her head. "During this time, an officer of the law will be checking on you every other week. You may not drink alcoholic substances, and if another crime of any variety is committed on your part, you will be brought back and tried again, this time as both a repeat offender and an adult." _Maybe if I can just get her to hit me again…_

"If you are reported to have been in another skirmish, one or two-sided, with R. Aida Cerebellum and her Minion, you will be sent to the stocks, and a trial will take place without your testimony. If you are found guilty, you will, without doubt, be entered into the prison system." _It might be worth it…_

"And in the here and now, you will do one hundred hours of Community Service with a charity of your choosing. Enjoy the work, Dear."

There was an eruption of noise as everyone stood at once, some voicing relief, others outrage, and still others unsatisfied contentment.

After shaking hands with her lawyer and offering him her thanks, Roxanne made her way over to where Forewoman Broca was standing.

Roxanne bowed deeply and smiled shyly at the woman.

"I express my deepest gratitude for your lack of bias and adherence to the law," she said with absolute sincerity. Broca gave a tight-lipped smile.

"I do my job, Miss Cerebellum. I expect no thanks, nor do I ask for it. Nevertheless, you are most welcome. You would do well to return to your family, who I am sure wish to congratulate you on an excellent acting performance."

Roxanne blushed again, bowed once more, and returned to where her loved ones were gathered to hug each and every one of them.

It would seem that there was some semblance of justice in the world after all.

**Author Comments:**

**It's 4:38 AM and I have to get to wake up at 7. LOOK MA, PROCRASTINATION! -.-**

**I almost forgot! *facepalm* In chapter twenty-three, there was a reference to Carrie, the Stephen King novel. Phenixia spotted it. Pop-ped corn to you, Phenixia! *Gives pop-ped corn***

**I had a random "Stop—wait—what is this?" moment in class the other day. I realized—how is it a Jury of my peers if they're all so much older than I am? (I'm not on trial, but some kids my age ARE.) So when I started writing this chapter I decide JHDFNSL;;GSRJHGBDSFVN CERUL IS GOING TO BE BETTER ABOUT IT.**

**So. Yeah. XDXD, I'm crazy. :F**

**The Forewoman is like the Judge, only more…Omnipotent.**

**R. Aida Cerebellum. The simplest way to avoid the inevitable "Ro—Roe—Ros—Rock—Ra—" XDXD **

**The trials are very short, because they're found to be far too complex and difficult when drawn out for long periods. Evidence decays, memories become faded, testimony changes and becomes distant in the minds of the Jury, and a long trial doesn't adhere to the natural-born right of a speedy trial. **

**Also I want to get on with the plot. :F XDXD**

**Yes, Gray. Gray because I can. Gray because I said so. GRAY BECAUSE IT IS! Also gray because I like the contrast between Megamind-blue and jumpsuit orange. I don't want Deldja looking pretty. She must look drab as possible. You know why? *Whispers* Because I can. XDXD**

**I found a loophole a while back. Murder is "the unlawful killing of one human by another." Even if Megs had been human, Metro Man wasn't, so attempted murder, being that murder is murder only against a human, was not something our blue hero would be charged with.**

**Unless, you know, the law was changed. ;)**

**Has no one noticed the pattern with naming, or are you all just being willfully silent? Because if you are knowing, I would gladly give to you pop-ped corn...**

**Chess: Because Logic is a universal language.**

**In acting, cheating is when you angle yourself toward the audience, or at least the greater portion of it, so that it may appear that you're actively talking to another person on stage, but not showing said audience your rear-end. You can pretend you're talking to the other character all you want, but everyone knows you're _really_ talking to the people who paid to see you talk. ;)**

**Gustatory was doomed from the start. XDXD**

**On Earth you have to be at least eighteen to be diagnosed with a personality disorder, but the Cerulean age is seventeen because that's the age at which they become legal adults.**

**Imagine you're a man and you've just been told about someone being kicked repeatedly in the groin. **

**THAT'S why those women are wincing.**

**Occam's Razor, Krints. Look it up! XDXD**

**Deldja should hate Mace now. But will she? DUN DUN DUN DUUNNNN!**

**Poetic contradictions: They are an art form. AN ARTFORM, I SAY!**

**It's 5:20 now. HDLKSNHGD;LVDLHFGNDSJHFSFSDU UGH. I must sleep. I will post this after I get home from work tomorrow. GOODNIGHT, FAIR CITIZENS! MAY MEGAMIND BE WITH YOU!**

**GJNDGOSD;JLNDBFGV NUUUUUUUUU! DDDD: ** Does anyone know to view reviews after you've deleted them from your E-mail? Because I know you can view reviews on other people's work at any time, but I can't seem to find the button to see my own reviews, and I really wanted to go back through and check and *Facewallstud***

**Anyway, thank you all again for all your wonderful reviews! I love them all, and they often make my day! I try to take everything you say into account, and answer as best I can as often as possible! *Hugs for everyone***

**And a tip of the hat to Elthfrae, who keeps me on my toes! ;)**


	28. There's No Such Thing As Normal

The next few days _crawled_ by on spindly legs as school went on and Deldja returned to classes. Things went right back to normal, though now it was only Deldja's cronies (and all the other students who weren't Deldja) who did the picking and the throwing and the shouting. But with Mace walking Roxanne to classes, that diminished some.

It was nice.

Mace's friends continued to hound him on who his date for the dance was, and Deldja, having caught wind of the news the moment she stepped into school on Kruleday, tried to tell everyone _she_ was his date. When everyone (and it was most definitely _everyone_) called her on it, she started saying Roxanne had brainwashed Mace into taking her.

Maybe a few of her close friends fell for it, but for the most part, no one took the bait.

Mace was too intelligent for a stupid _human_ to trick him like that, after all. And what he'd said about Alshzheck's blade certainly applied—the simpler explanation was usually the correct one.

But Mace just ignored all the speculation about his date, just smiling a little smugly every lunch hour as he made his way to his and Roxanne's table at the back of the room, listening to all of the whispers and amused by them all. His favorite rumor was the one where he was sitting with Roxanne every day to stir up sympathy. He knew better, though. She wasn't his charity case.

She was just a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent girl who just so _happened_ to be an alien.

Why would she need a charity?

***Break***

"Mace?" Isst asked as she opened the door Aldaday evening. He had dressed in his best yet again, and held a bouquet in his hands for Roxanne.

"Good evening, Lady Cerebellum," Mace greeted, dipping his head.

"What are you doing here?" Isst asked. "I thought you'd be going to tonight's dance."

"I am," Mace answered. "But I can't very well arrive without my date, now can I?"

"Date?" Isst asked. "Who are you taking?"

"I'm taking Roxanne, of course!" Mace laughed, not quite noticing the shocked look that crossed Isst's motherly face.

"Roxanne is—Roxanne is upstairs," Isst answered, stepping back to allow Mace entrance into her home. "Why don't you go up and see if she's ready? Knock first!" she added as he ascended the stairs.

After standing another moment in the doorway, Isst turned and ran through the house, searching for her minion and/or husband.

***Break***

"Come in," Roxanne called as a knock came upon her door, and she beamed as Mace first opened the door a crack, then threw it wide open. From the look on his face in the mirror, he was almost bursting with excitement. Then she turned around, and her smile became shy. "You look dashing," she said, averting her eyes with a blush.

"You look breathtaking," he said, shutting the door and leaning back against it. "Is that the dress you're wearing?" he asked.

"I was planning on it. Why? Do you think I should find another one? Does it make me look too pale? Maybe I should be wearing make-up—they don't have to know who I am right away, right?"

"Calm down," Mace laughed. "You look great! And I refuse to let you wear any make-up. You look beautiful just the way you are." Roxanne's face darkened with blood, but she smiled a little wider all the same as she stood up and made her way to the door. She was wearing a long yellow dress with puffy sleeves and lacy ruffles reaching to the floor. A black cape, complete with a dark hood, hung down her back, the insides scarlet, matching the outfit quite nicely.

"These are for you," Mace said, handing her the bouquet, and he grew worried Roxanne would soon pass out from all the blood rushing to her face. But she took the flowers, thanking him, and rushed into the adjacent bathroom to put them in some water.

"Where's Minion?" Roxanne asked, coming back into the room and bringing Gilda, who had remained silent so far in, over to her suit and dropping her in through the top before rolling her sphere into the middle and closing the ramp.

"He's waiting outside," Mace replied. "Keeping the jetbikes company. You don't mind flying do you?"

"Well how else do you get from place to place besides walking?" Roxanne laughed. Mace shrugged.

"I have no idea, but some Ceruleans just seem to have this illogical fear of flight. It's completely baffling, but I figured it was safer to ask now than be sorry later."

"Thank you for the sentiment," Roxanne returned. "Who let you in?"

"Your mother, why?" Roxanne forced a smile.

"No reason. No reason at all. Let's just go. We don't want to be late, right?"

"No, I suppose not," Mace replied as Roxanne took him by the hand and rushed out the door and down the stairs with Gilda following quickly behind. "Wait," Mace said as Roxanne threw open the outside door. "Isn't it tradition for me to meet your father first to assure him I'll have you back before curfew and—"

"Isn't it tradition to date inside your own species?"

"Well yes, of course, but—" They were outside and rushing down the walkway before Mace could say anymore, and he gave up on the argument, wondering why she was so eager to get out of the house when she was clearly nervous about going to the actual dance.

But he put it out of his mind for now, and focused on getting her to the dance safely as he and Minion boarded their respective motorbikes, with each of their dates getting on behind them.

He didn't think there could possibly have been a better night for flying.

***Break***

"Here we are," Mace announced as they approached the doors to the school. "Do you want to go to the courtyard, or around back?"

"The…courtyard, I guess," Roxanne decided, shaking all over with nervousness as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Are you sure we shouldn't just ditch the dance and go somewhere else? We can see the eclipse just as well from the woods, or a roof, or we could just opt to see the eclipse at some later date and—" Roxanne was silenced by a kiss, and practically melted.

"Are you ready?" Mace asked when he released her, and taking a deep breath, she nodded.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, and when she looked to Gilda, her minion nodded to tell her Mistress that she was also ready to go.

"Then let's make ourselves a scene," Mace said, holding out his arm, which Roxanne took gratefully. Minion and Gilda did the same as Mace reached for the door handle. He pressed down and pulled out.

And they stepped out into the courtyard.

**Author Notes: **

**Transition chapters. Ugh. . Admittedly, this one isn't as bad as most of them, but, still. *Sigh* Oh well. That's life. Bad with the good. MOVING ON.**

**Next chapter will be the dance.**

**UGH. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE WAIT! Life, you know. Gets in the way of everything. That and school. Stupid school...Anyway, so yeah. Hopefully you won't have to wait too much longer for the next chapter. :F**

**AND TO EVERYONE WHO GOT THE NAMING THING (most people did): *Showers winners with pop-ped corn* For those who didn't, all the last names have to do with parts of the brain. :3 AND SO HUZZAH VERILY THEREFORE THUSLY ANON! BECAUSE I CAN! !**  
><strong>INSANE? ME? OH NO, I'M NOT INSANE, MY NAME IS MOONY. YOU HAVE THE WRONG HOUSE, GOOD SIR! SO LONG! *Doorslam* *Is a crazy lunatic* XDXD, ENJOY!<strong>

**OH, ALSO, I ALMOST FORGOT: I want to thank all of you reviewers yet again, because it's you guys that keep me writing. I swear, if it weren't for you guys I might have abandoned this story a long while back. I GIVE YOU MY LOVE! *Gives love* 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3**


	29. Touch Her, And There Will Be Blood

For a second, everything at the front of the room stopped. The music continued to play, but no one was dancing, and the lack of sound and movement quickly spread to the furthest regions of the courtyard, until everyone was staring at Mace, Minion, Roxanne, and Gilda. Roxanne's entire body shook. Her heart leaped in her chest, beating so fiercely that if it hadn't been for the music, she was certain everyone would be able to hear it.

But Mace gave her arm a squeeze and smiled at everyone with complete confidence. He waved, but no one moved.

So he started moving instead, leading Roxanne and their minions towards the other side of the courtyard as whispers broke out on all sides.

Roxanne ducked her head to avoid flying objects, scathing words, threats, fists. Picked her feet up higher with every step to avoid any kicks or attempts to trip her. But they didn't come. To her surprise, nothing did, and before she knew it, the quartet were meeting up with a group of Mace's friends, who stared at them slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"Neren, Nistrom, Gladivore, Chirinesket, Lurey, Sincha, Chisna, Lyrkrat, Riven, Tralitarr, this is Roxanne, and this is Gilda," Mace introduced proudly. "Roxanne, Gilda, this is Neren, his twin sister Nistrom and girlfriend Gladivore, and Chirinesket and Lurey Medulla." Roxanne smiled shyly at them all, and waved in the same manner.

"Hi, Roxanne," Neren said slowly, squinting at her. "I thought your name was Aida?"

"It's my…Cerulean name," Roxanne said, swallowing hard. "Roxanne is the name my…my Earth mother gave me."

"Earth?" Nistrom questioned. "That's you're home planet, right? Or is it a nationality?"

"It's the planet," Roxanne replied, glancing at her feet. Gilda moved toward Roxanne on instinct, setting a hand on her shoulder for comfort. Roxanne moved her shoulder in a subtle manner to indicate her thanks without using speech or lifting her head.

"It's nice to meet you," Neren said almost dismissively, looking to Mace. "I thought you were bringing a date?" Roxanne suddenly wanted to disappear.

"I did."

"Where is she."

"Right here," Mace replied, pulling Roxanne a little closer to himself. His friends and their respective minions all just stared.

For a really.

Long.

Time.

"Does your hair have…nerve endings?" Nistrom asked at length, squinting at the human in question. Roxanne looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"Well…you've got…" Nistrom gestured to her own bald head with grandiose movements of her hands and arms. "All this…all this _hair_ on your head, and I'm pretty sure you had more of it before Mace started hanging out with you…like, a _lot _more…and I know I don't have nerve endings in my eyebrows or eyelashes, but you _are_ an alien, so…"

"No," Roxanne replied, looking back at the floor and shaking her head. "I don't have—I don't have nerve endings in my hair." She tugged at it as if to demonstrate. "Only at the roots. Like—like everyone else."

"Well, what are you…made of?" Nistrom asked.

"Carbon." The quick quip caused most of them to laugh, despite the collective unease at work.

"No, I mean—our coloring is caused by melanin. Is yours caused by a different color of melanin? And is your body structure different than ours? Do you share any common link with Cryptonians? You look like them, only…smaller."

"Well, yes, I believe my skin's coloration is caused by melanin, and there are some slight variations with bone density and…"

While Roxanne answered Nistrom's questions one by one, Neren grabbed Mace and hauled the taller boy off to the side.

"Lash!" Neren hissed.

"What?" Mace asked, rubbing at the spot on his arm Neren had so forcefully grabbed.

"You took the _alien_ to the dance?"

"Yes. She's my date. It would be kind of rude to take someone else, wouldn't it?"

"_Lash!"_

"_What?"_

"Is there something wrong with your _head?_" Neren demanded, giving Mace a look infused with a mix of incredulity and confusion. "She's not Cerulean! She's—she's—she's _human._"

"Well, yes," Mace replied, nodding his head in agreement. "She is not and she is, respectively. I think that's a pretty easy thing to tell just to look at her. So?"

"_So?"_ Neren asked. "So you've just crossed a species boundary, that's what! She isn't even from the same _planet!_"

"It makes no difference," Mace retorted, looking past his friend and smiling in Roxanne's direction. "She's amazing."

"Mace, have you lost your mind?" Neren demanded. "Or is Deldja right, and she really has brainwashed you?"

"Neren, that's ridiculous," Mace said very flatly, looking his friend in the eye with zero amusement therein. "I haven't lost my mind, and it hasn't been washed. You should be a little less closed-minded and a little more open."

"Well that's exactly what everyone else is probably asking right here, right now, _at this very moment._"

"Well here's something to think about: I don't care."

"How can you just _not care?_" Neren asked. "Your reputation—"

"You know, I'm getting pretty tired of everyone worrying about my rep-u-ta-tion," Mace informed the shorter boy. "A rep-u-ta-tion is pretty worthless when it comes to the long and the short of it. I don't _care _about my rep-u-ta-tion, Neren. Sure, it's nice to be well-liked, it's great! But I'd rather be happy than pop-u-lar."

"So you actually _like_ her?" Neren asked. "This isn't just some charity case?"

"No! Charrity belongs to organ-i-zations. It would be—it would be—there isn't even a _ward_ for how _terry-ble_ a person has to be to _pretend_ to dat someone as an act of _charrity!_"

"Why," Neren asked, "in the name of the collective information outlets at the edges of our universe, would you _like_ her? _Look_ at her! She's _pink,_ and _hairy,_ and _stupid!_"

"Roxanne is _not _stupid!" Mace snapped, his temper growing thin. "Granted, she may not be on par with my level of intelligence, or even yours, but she has above average grades, much better than Deldja's, or even Gladivore's, and her culture, her people, were _so much farther behind us _in age, in development, in technology, in _intelligence_—to keep up with the steep learning curve put up by our society, _especially_ in _our _school, she must have had to adapt and learn at a rate more than six times as quickly as she would have on her home planet! They began school, and by school, I mean the very basics of reading and writing, at the age of _five,_ not _three_ as we do here, and she landed on Cerul at a year and a half, meaning she had a year and a half to reach a point acceptable for entry into our society. With the size of her head, _which,_ I might add, I find to be an attractive quality, it is nothing short of a miracle that she is able to keep up with what goes on in the classroom _at all,_ and unlike a _lot_ of students I know, she's intelligent enough to _ask for help_ when she _needs it!_

"And intelligence isn't even just a matter of how smart she is on paper," Mace went, throwing his hands up and shaking his head. "She writes _amazing_ reports, she does _spotless_ research on things most people wouldn't even think to question. She uses what some people see as a disadvantage to get information _no one else can get._ She sees potential for things I wouldn't even imagine, she can spot mistakes and flaws and errors in my technology that _not even my parents_ would think about! And _despite_ her _'stupidity,'_ Nistrom seems to be having a fine old time having a conversation with her, the first conversation any female outside her family has been willing to give her, simply because she's _different!_

"You can call a lot of people a lot of things, and I won't fight you on it. But if you _ever _call Roxanne stupid _ever_ again, I _will_ resort to physical violence." Neren shrank beneath the force of Mace's verbal onslaught, and winced.

"Lash, _settle down,_" Neren bade, making a motion as if to smooth out a sheet of paper. "You obviously like her, but _seriously._ How can you stand to _look at her?_"

"_Very. Easily,"_ Mace returned with an unnatural calm about him. "_I _think she's beautiful. Even if you disagree, it would be kind if you would keep comments like that to yourself. I would think, as my closest friend, you would tend to support my decisions rather than try to talk me out of them, especially considering the fact that you were among the most adamant to insist that I begin dating. I will now take my leave," Mace announced with a slight nod, slipping past Neren without any other form of goodbye.

Neren cursed under his breath and rubbed at his forehead. It always bothered him when people refused the traditional goodbye, even if things weren't all right between them. It left his forehead feeling somehow numb...

***Break***

"Your brother's such an idiot," Nistrom laughed, rolling her eyes. "He'd be _so_ much better off if he stopped tailing Deldja every which way. What is it about the men in our Year wanting girls in other Years? Not that I'm complaining in your case of course, Roxanne," Nistrom added quickly, not wishing to offend. "I'm pretty sure _no one_ in our Year could meet Mace's standard, and we're all probably so deep in the Friend Zone it's not even funny, but my _point_ is—oh, hey Mace," Nistrom greeted as she caught sight of the boy from the corner of her eye. "Neren sounds ticked. _Anyway,_" she went on, returning her attention to Roxanne, "Neren's dating Gladivore, who is in the Year two below ours, Reptung is always after Deldja, who is, of course, in _your_ Year, then the Medulla brothers here are in complicated relationships with the Oblongata sisters, who are taking their first Year of medical school—and _no, _as far as I'm aware, their last names are completely coincidental, unless, of course, they went looking for the only twins in the area whose last names coincided so _perfectly _with their own, and the other boys all follow a very similar trend, leaving the girls in our Year to fend for ourselves."

"What's going on?" Mace asked, wrapping an arm around Roxanne's shoulders. "Are we talking about my refusing to date any of my friends, or are we talking about Lurey and Chirinesket not being able to tell their girlfriends apart?"

"No," Gladivore returned, arms crossed over her chest. "We're talking about Nistrom's massive crush on Roxanne's brother."

"I will slug you, Krint," Nistrom warned in a friendly manner.

"Whatever," Gladivore returned with a smirk. Mace laughed and looked down at Roxanne.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"I now know much more about what's going on in your Year than I know about mine," Roxanne admitted, smiling gaily.

"Where did Minion and Gilda go?" Mace questioned, looking around.

"The minions, as a collective mass, heard a song they liked and moooved out!" Lurey replied, making a throwing motion with his right arm. "Zip, bammo, so long!"

"So they went dancing?"

"Yeah, that's the sum of it," Chirinesket agreed, and Mace grinned.

"I think that sounds like a great idea. May I have this dance?" he asked of Roxanne, and she blushed and nodded, slipping her hand into his and waving goodbye as they marched off to find their own section of floor. "How are you getting along with them?" Mace asked when they were alone. "They didn't say anything dimin-u-tive, did they?"

"No. They're—they're very nice," Roxanne informed him. "At least, Nistrom is. The others didn't really say much of anything."

"Nistrom can be a bit of a flibbertigibbet," Mace agreed. "But she's completely harmless."

"Does she _really_ have a crush on Reptung?" Roxanne asked, making a face.

"A lot more than you'd think," Mace replied, the two of them swaying in time to the music. "Oh," he said suddenly, looking past Roxanne. "Here comes trouble."

"I knew it!" Deldja's shrill voice sounded, causing Roxanne to spin quickly around and grab hold of Mace as the girl and her cronies came barreling towards them.

"And there goes the evening," Mace finished, pulling Roxanne close in a protective manner. Why did it always have to be Deldja? Why couldn't it be monsters? Monsters would be _much_ better!

**Authors Notes:**

**Lash: Dude.**

**The first time Mace gets angry, he gets flustered and stops being able to talk right. The second time he delivers every word with such force that it knocks the impediment right out of it. BECAUSE HE'S AWESOME LIKE THAT.**

**NEREN, YOU LITTLE—IMMA CUT YOU! XDXD, JK. But seriously. Neren's bein' a jerk. DX**

**But Nistrom's being cool about the whole thing. XDXD**

**YOU DO NOT INSULT MACE'S WOMAN, BECAUSE HE _WILL_ HURT YOU! XDXD**

**To anyone who wants to know, this is the formula:**

**Reputation + Mace = No f*cks given. XDXD**

**Many italicized words. You know, therefore, that those words are IMPORTANT. XDXD**

**As I said in the last chapter; I've lost my mind. The Tourettey's want you to know that THEY ARE BATMAN. Also, it's 2:47 AM, so I'm probably more tired than I think. (As evidenced by the fact that I tried to end that sentence with the word "have.") So. Goodnight!**


	30. Eclipse

"I _knew_ you'd brainwashed him!" Deldja shrieked, Flooze and her other followers halting just behind her as she took up the distance closest to Roxanne that she could manage without being too tempted to hit her then and there and seal her fate at the hands of the law.

"No one did any branwashing, Delja," Mace growled, holding out his arms to protect Roxanne from the gnashing teeth of the monster before them.

"That's exactly what you'd say if you were! Why would you be with _her_ if you weren't!"

"Exactly why I'm with her now!" She took a step forward, and Mace bared his teeth threateningly. "You'd better stay back, Deldja. If you lay one hand on her, you'll be violating your parole."

"It's not against my parole to hit you," she returned.

"You have some kind of logic," Mace snorted, and here Roxanne realized that everyone was watching. "You're going to make me like you by hurting me? How does that work?"

"You'll thank me when you've come to your senses!"

"What makes you think I _want_ to 'come to my senses?' And even if that happened—which it wouldn't—why do you think I'd like you when I've _never_ liked you? What do you think I'd do? Turn on Roxanne?"

"Yes!" Deldja shouted, face purpling with rage. "She's brainwashed you, and you're too far under to see it!"

"Why on God's blue Cerul would you think she has the ability to brainwash others? If that was so, don't you think she'd have already brainwashed you into keeping her secret?"

"Her brother said—"

"Her brother said this," Neren sneered from the crowd, rolling his eyes and making his hands "talk" as he mimicked Deldja. "Her brother said that. Her brother knows everything even though he's a dope. Her brother, her brother, her brother. Why don't you just marry the kid, already? You clearly trust every single word that comes out of his mouth."

"You know, you don't actually have any siblings, Deldja," Nistrom remarked, startling Roxanne as she appeared behind the human. "But I've got three brothers, and you know, siblings will do just about anything to get another's goat, especially if it gets them somewhere they want to be. Reptung is an idiot. Roxanne is a human. You are a gullible hate-monger with a nice body. This equation is a very simple one you'd understand if you had just paid attention in First Year Mathematics, but you're only passing because your Clones back there let you cheat off them every chance you get."

Deldja looked somewhere between tears and a fit of rage, and, shaking, she did the stupidest thing imaginable.

She pounced.

The entire courtyard was suddenly deafening as the room transitioned from sound to silence, and while Nistrom and Gladivore pulled Roxanne away from the din to keep her safe while Gilda and Minion rushed to her side, Mace, Neren, Chirinisket, Lurey, Sincha, Chisna, Tralitarr, and Riven went tooth and nail against Deldja, her cronies, and their minions while the rest of the school gathered close to cheer for one side or another.

To Roxanne's surprise, most of them were still cheering for Mace.

"Are you all right, Mistress?" Gilda asked, pulling Roxanne close to her.

"Fine," Roxanne insisted, and though she didn't say the words, Gilda knew she was itching to jump in in her own defense. Gilda held her tighter in response. Being broken, it was the most she could do—but it did enough to constrain her Mistress.

No one noticed when the smaller of the planet's two moons drifted behind the other, too absorbed in the immediate conflict, which, for once, had no teachers involved to stop it midway—dances were not usually chaperoned, and were more exercises in independent socialization than anything else.

But everyone noticed when the moons went out for a brief few moments, leaving the night illuminated by nothing but the stars and plunging them all into an unnatural darkness from which all sound evacuated, and the sounds of conflict stopped.

It was not until the moons slid out from the shadow of Cerul and began to part paths in the night sky that Roxanne opened her eyes with some degree of hesitation to watch as the victors stood. When she saw them, she swallowed hard.

Pushed Gilda away.

And ran.

**Author Comments:**

**DUN DUN DUN DUNNNNN!**

**SORRY FOR THE WAIT EVERYONE, REALLY, I TRULY AM SORRY! FORGIVE MEH! DDDDDDDDD''''''''''''''''''''': **

**School. School and homework and play and such. -.-**

**LIFE!**

**But no, I have not abandoned my sweet little innocent creation, and have no plans to. It simply might take me a while to get the chapters out, which stinks because I have them in my head. .**

**BUT MAYBE IF WE'RE LUCKY I'LL BE ABLE TO POP OUT ANOTHER CHAPTER BEFORE BEDTIME BECAUSE NO SCHOOL TOMORROW, CONFERENCE DAY AND ALL SO WOOT WOOT! :DDD**

**Again, thank you to all commenters/reviewers. You guys are awesome. YOU GUYS ARE WHAT MAKE ME WANT TO CONTINUE! :3**

**With love, **

**~Moony**

**:3**

**XDXD**

**PS. I am so sorry to everyone who has been looking forward to this for any length of time. I'M SORRY ELTHFRAE! So, so, so sorry. **

**And if this kind of gap in writing happens again, anyone and everyone who is a faithful reader (OMG, I HAVE FAITHFUL READERS! *Sobsob* **so happy**), feel free to ask me about it, because sometimes I need a kick in the pants to force myself to make time. :3**

**I LOVE YOU ALL! PEACE!**


	31. What Are You Talking About?

Roxanne stumbled to Mace's side to pull him up and help him dust himself on while Neren and the others head-touched and hooted over their victory.

"Are you alright?" she asked in a rush, and Mace grinned at her with such absolute confidence, Roxanne could practically feel it in her toes.

"Never been better," he proclaimed, though his black eye and the bite mark on his left keep said otherwise.

Roxanne slowly smiled back and threw her arms around him before casting her eyes toward Deldja, whom Flooze was helping to her feet. The girl let go of Mace before he even had a chance to hug her back, and he was enveloped by a crowd of congratulatory faces. Roxanne slipped over to Deldja's side as Flooze slipped and dropped the Cerulean, whose face was not nearly as beautiful as it had once been, now swollen and a little bloody.

Roxanne smiled down into Deldja's confused and furious face and cocked her head.

"What do you want?" Deldja snarled.

"You can't hurt me anymore," Roxanne stated, and spit in Deldja's face.

It darkened from blue to violet in nothing flat, and Deldja leaped to her feet on her own, drawing her fist back without thought, to which Roxanne leaned forward, willing her enemy to hurt her just this one last time—for old time's sake, one might say.

Deldja let fly, and Roxanne braced herself for what would surely be a terrible, world-shaking blow, and would also surely be the end of an era—Deldja's era.

Deldja's terrible, horrible, cruel, nasty, _evil_ era.

Roxanne was ready for pain.

And instead was saved at the last moment by the single most benevolent force in her entire life wrapping strong arms around her waist from behind and pulling her back while simultaneously extending his foot in Deldja's direction and catching her…in the stomach.

And everyone saw.

For a few moments, there was a long silence as Deldja shrieked and clutched her stomach like it was the end of the world (though really, he had barely hurt her) and all the others simply watched with cold, judgmental eyes.

Flooze began shrieking, too, but after a few minutes, someone who was not one of Mace's close friends spoke up.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "Mace never even touched you. You fell all on your own. You shouldn't be such a lendor on your feet."

Deldja was suddenly silenced.

The boy turned away and started chatting with another kid as if nothing had happened, and after a few seconds, the rest of the students did the same.

Deldja and her cronies could kick and scream and shout all they wanted, but no one heard them, because suddenly they didn't exist.

And though Roxanne tried to become invisible again, she was suddenly touching heads, gripping hands, and taking names every which way. She could hardly breathe from the shock and excitement and...what was that word? Exceptional? No, that wasn't the one, though it was close. Acceptance? Yes. That was the one.

Acceptance.

And at one point, long after Deldja had run out screaming about aliens and brainwashing schemes to take over the world, Roxanne found it was too much and turned her head, burying her face in Mace's shoulder to cry tears that were positively joyous.

And Mace smiled and held her, and they swayed together in time to the music, pretending to do no more than dance, though no one would have blamed Roxanne Aida Cerebellum had she cried aloud.

But she didn't know that, and even if she had, it gave her an excuse to be here, in Mace's arms, which was exactly where she wanted to be.

Here, and nowhere else.

**Author Comments:**

**HO YEAH! MY KEYBOARD IS ON FIRE!  
>My muse is back! I'm back on board and ready to GOGOGOGO! :DDD<br>Also, I'm hyped up on Mountain Dew and Sleep Deprivation, which always helps. :D XDXD  
>WOOT WOOT! Deldja gets her just deserts. :3 But don't worry, folks, it's FAR from over...<br>Enjoy! :D**


	32. This Makes No Since

"You should have just let her hit me," Roxanne told Mace as they walked hand-in-hand up the slope to her home. "She would have been out of everyone's life forever, and she'd never be able to hurt—"

"I'm not ever going to let her hurt you," Mace said, squeezing her hand and smiling assuringly down into her face. "If I have to fail an entire Year to keep you safe from her, I will."

Roxanne blushed and averted her gaze.

"I would never ask you to do that," she said. "And if you'd let her hit me one last time, you'd never have to worry about it. And no one _else_ would ever be hurt by her again, either."

"I guess it would have made since," Mace admitted.

"Sense, Sir," Minion corrected from some distance away, and a sharp look from the blue boy silenced the fish and returned him to his conversation with Gilda about stew—a topic which, in the correct environment, the two could discuss for endless hours.

"Snese," Mace corrected himself, then made a face and tried again. "Senes. Senis. Senense. Sesne. Se—na—sa." Roxanne giggled, and Mace blushed, but smiled again, feeling proud of himself rather than ashamed.

He so loved it when she laughed.

"Whatever the word is, it would have made it," he decided, and Roxanne nodded in agreement. "But I couldn't stand to see you hurt," he went on, and Roxanne's blush deepened. "I know it would solve things, but…you have such a pretty face. I don't want to see it discolored. Or saddened. Or hurt."

"You're hurt," Roxanne pointed out, looking up suddenly, tracing the dark circle around his eye with her own blue orbs, wanting to touch it but knowing that would embarrass and hurt him, and it may, as conditioning had taught her, disgust him.

She didn't want any of that.

Mace waved it off as if it were nothing.

"I'm not hurt," he insisted. "It's nothing."

"You have a Dark Eye."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do! The Dark Ring can be seen clearer than daylight."

"It's just a flesh wound," Mace insisted, which was true, but Roxanne still didn't like it.

They lapsed into silence for a bit, and as they reached the home stretch, Roxanne rested her head against Mace's chest.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For tonight. For everything."

"It was my pleasure," Mace replied, unable to tell anything but the truth. He shifted his arm so that he was holding her rather than just her hand, and they paused in front of Roxanne's front door. Roxanne didn't want the night to end, but then, what else was there for it to do? If it went on forever, she'd never know what awaited her behind this next door—though she suspected she already knew.

So Roxanne turned and leaned forward to touch her forehead to Mace's, but halfway there he captured her mouth and she sank into his embrace, not wanting to let go.

"Goodnight," Roxanne bade when he released her, but Mace looked hesitant to leave as well.

"Shouldn't I come in and speak with your parents?" he asked, cocking his head hopefully.

"Gilda and I really should get to bed," Roxanne insisted, and Gilda came rushing forward at her Mistress's signal.

"Don't your parents care that I could be an incorrect choice for you?" Mace asked, and Roxanne bit her lip and looked down, shaking her head.

"No," she replied.

"Why not?"

"They didn't know you were taking me to the dance."

"What?"

"I never told them."

Roxanne and Gilda slipped into the house with lightning swiftness, and the door slammed shut behind them, leaving Mace staring at the entrance with zombie eyes, Minion gaping not far behind.

**Author Comments:**

**Props to anyone who can guess the reference! :D**

**Also: Uh-oh. O.O**


	33. The Plot Thickens

A plate shattered against the wall as Roxanne entered the house, and she dodged deftly before taking off up the stairs, Gilda already climbing as silently as was possible. Shouting echoed through the house, and more dishes were being broken, shattering into thousands of tiny slivers in this room and all those surrounding.

Roxanne slipped onto the stair beside Reptung, Gilda and Gishnar several above them, staring through the railings at the lower level.

"What are they fighting about?" she asked.

"You," Reptung replied, and the 'as if you didn't know' was implied.

They stayed silent then, watching as Loral and Isst moved from the kitchen into the entryway, not yet realizing that Roxanne had returned home. Civ and Rit followed, and for once, they were the peacemakers.

"Don't you think she has the right to be _happy?_" Isst cried, and if she had not been crying, she would be soon.

"Of _course _I think that!" Loral returned, but the glass in his hand, perhaps the last in the house from the way Reptung stretched his legs, which turned to beads of blood along his palm from the shrapnel incurred upon explosion, said otherwise. "I just don't think—"

"You just don't think she has the right to ever have a normal life!" Isst shouted, cutting him off before he could finish the thought.

"There are plenty of normal Ceruleans who have never married!" Loral pointed out, temper thinner than it had ever been before. Civ and Rit's shouts to end the fight now before they killed each other were met with complete ignorance, and only the children, looking on in the third person, were even aware of their presence. "Overlord Cadrid is the Overlord of Cerul, and he's never taken a wife!"

"Overlord Cadrid has nothing to do with this!" Isst shrieked, gesticulating wildly as her temper spun out of control. "And neither does taking a mate! Even the oldest maiden on the planet has had at least one romantic interest in her life time! How is Aida supposed to be accepted if her own father can't let her grow up! How is she supposed to be happy when she can never have a chance at having _children?_"

"I never said she couldn't adopt!" Loral shot back.

"_Why would you want to adopt if you have no one to share the children with?"_ Isst demanded. _"Why would you want to adopt when you could have children of your __**own?**__"_

For a second, Roxanne and Reptung shared the space of time in which their hearts ceased to beat, and they shared a pained and shameful glance, neither knowing what the other was thinking but neither needing to.

Their hands brushed for the smallest of moments before their attention was turned back to the argument at hand.

"We don't even know if that's _possible!_" Loral insisted, throwing his hands up. "And if it is, why should she risk sickly, mutated offspring when she could raise perfectly normal children? For God's sake, Isst, we don't even know if she _wants_ children!"

"Even if she doesn't want them now, it's always an option that's nice to _have,_" Isst spat, and for the first time since Roxanne had returned home, they were silent, each staring into the eyes of the other. Something passed between the two of them, and Roxanne and Reptung shared another glance.

"You don't even care," Isst hissed. She sounded bitter, and that sound didn't belong in her throat, in her mouth, in her ears—it didn't belong anywhere around her, not within a five-mile radius. It was frightening. "You just don't want her anywhere near a man."

"I'm her father," Loral growled, and his teeth were bared and clenched. "I'm not _supposed_ to approve of any male she shows an interest in."

"This isn't about her being your daughter," Isst spat. "This isn't about you being protective, or even about you disapproving of Mace. This is about you being a racist. Bastard." This time it was Civ and Rit that exchanged wide-eyed gazes—they knew all the things the children didn't, and they also knew that Isst had never sworn in all her life.

And before today, she had never raised her voice at Loral.

Loral looked as if he were about to say something. He opened his mouth, then shut it and drew himself up to his full height, tightened his features, which now looked strangely lined and both too young and too old. Too harsh. He set his lips in a thin, straight line, took a deep breath through his nose, and closed his eyes. He breathed out, then in again, and opened them. They didn't appear angry anymore, simply tried, hard, and cold. His hands flexed into fists and out, and he calmed himself, looking more intimidating in this livid tranquility than he did ready to slit Isst's throat or fry a home invader.

"There is only one 'race' on Cerul," Loral stated, "and that is Cerulean. Roxanne is a human. She is not another race, she is another species, and there is _nothing_ wrong with retaining a certain hesitation to accept the thought of breeding or romantic interaction between—"

"You say that about your own daughter," Isst said, shaking her head. "You say that about _your own daughter!_"

"Don't you understand what has to be _wrong_ with someone to be attracted to a member of _another species?_ What would you say of a Cerulean fallen in love with a minion? Or worse, one of their oceanic brethren? Or with a Cryptonian? What would you say of a minion that fell in love with a Cryptonian? Would you accept it? Would you turn a blind eye? If it were your own child? Would that make it any different?"

"You are no better than that heartless creshnan that tried to kill our daughters. Aida has met her first and only Cerulean friend, and you want to take it away just because you feel it isn't 'right.' Are you human, Loral? Are you some backwards 'religious' man? Do you want to fight a war against the people who believe in exactly what you believe with a different name attached? Or do you want to kill everything you don't understand? _Aren't_ _you supposed to be a Man Of Science?_"

"_We are all Men and Women Of Science!"_ Loral shouted, grabbing Isst by the arms and gripping tightly. Another first—they didn't ever harm one another, even by accident. "I love Roxanne as much as you do," he said, every word painfully clear. "And she has every right as any other Cerulean. In the eyes of the law and in the eyes of any fair man or woman, she _is_ Cerulean. But she's human, and I am _not _the only one who feels this way. I would rather she die than face the ridicule she would receive upon taking any kind of mate—you've seen her Pod just as well as I have."

Reptung glanced over at Roxanne. She stared straight ahead, her lips set like their father's—behaviors have never needed to be genetic—her eyes blank and empty. He went to set a hand on her shoulder.

But Roxanne was already vanishing up the stairs, the ends of her cape catching Reptung on the cheek and leaving the smallest stinging sensation accompanied by a small purple mark that would be gone in moments, the hood hiding the back of her head and the sides wrapped around her face as Gilda followed on her tail, no longer mindful of the noise they made.

The shouting resumed as Roxanne reached her room, and the shattering of glass hid the single sob that escaped her before she was able to slam the door shut behind her.

Reptung returned his attention to the show, and pulled his knees up to his chin.

Gilda put her furry arms around Roxanne and held her while she cried.

Mace and Minion continued to stare at the door, unaware of what had just gone on inside.

**Author Comments:**

**This is why she never told them.**

**DUN DUN DUN DUUUUNNNN.**

**Also, the reference in the last chapter was Monty Python and the Holy Grail-for those who didn't catch it, you should watch it. Or rewatch it. Whichever. For those who did, POP-PED CORN TO ALL! *Makes it rain***

**PS. No offense meant to the religious community. Seriously. Any religious community. Sorry if offense was taken. That was not intended.**


	34. Odd Man Out

Roxanne didn't know how she ended up in Mace's arms, and his memory of coming in through her window was hazy. But he knew she was upset and wanted to know why.

When he found her crying, he had known it was the right decision.

Her explanation came slowly, haltingly, but Mace was patient, stroking her hair as she cried into his chest, listening without interruption. His fists clenched momentarily at the unexpected bigotry of her father, but he forced himself to remain calm, making small soothing sounds to calm her.

"It's all right," he whispered, nuzzling the top of her head. "It's all right. Everything will be OK."

"Why don't you just leave?" Roxanne demanded, trying to draw away from him, but Mace wouldn't have that. "All you're going to do is get us both in trouble!"

"Because I don't want to," he announced, drawing himself up in mock self importance, then smiled warmly and relaxed his posture. "And because as much as I hate to see you cry, I hate it more to think about you crying alone."

"Hey!" The door slammed open suddenly, and Mace and Roxanne both jumped and turned startled eyes on the figure in the door. It was Reptung, and Mace's gaze darkened, tightening his grip on Roxanne. "I can hear you two halfway down the dagging staircase. Now, I really don't care to know what you two are up to, and I'm trying to watch the first entertaining thing our parents have ever done, so try to keep it down, will you?"

The corners of Roxanne's mouth twitched up slightly, and she wiped her face and nodded.

"Yeah, Reptung. Whatever pleases his highness."

"Krint. Mace," Reptung added, nodding his head and disappearing through the door, shutting it softly behind him.

Gilda would have shaken her head if it wasn't still broken, but as it was she rolled her eyes, shooting a Minion look that, since his master didn't have siblings, he didn't understood. But he nodded as if he did—no one ever wanted to seem ignorant—and they returned to their background silence, metal fingers clasping metal fingers in the manner of any shy, uncertain minion.

Roxanne and Mace stopped talking for a long time while Roxanne brought herself under control, and Mace continued to stroke her hair. When they finally did speak, it was in whispers.

"I'm not alone," Roxanne said softly. "I have Gilda."

"You know what I mean," Mace insisted. His forehead now rested on hers, and his toes flexed in anticipation of the link that never came—it was frustrating, not having that instant connection, but at the same time, it couldn't help but incite relief—There were things in Mace's memory that he'd rather not share with Roxanne Aida Cerebellum, Earthling-turned-Cerulean, born-human and naturalized to Cerul.

Suddenly, Roxanne laughed, and Mace looked up, startled. Had he heard her laugh before? He wasn't sure—well, maybe once or twice, but…

"What?" he asked, and Roxanne looked down, blushing. She shook her head.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? So we've somehow been pulled out of the space-time continuum have we? Well, it looks as if we've all of eternity here, then. Such a terrible, terrible fate—we shall never again see our families! Oh, sweet Temptress, what have you done? Why have you brought upon us the dreadful _Nothing?_"

He clutched at his heart and fell back upon Roxanne's bed, and she giggled, laughing again when he grabbed her around the waist to pull her down beside him and kiss her adorably tiny forehead. He looked down into her eyes, which sparkled in the dim light, and she smiled shyly back at him and his impossibly green irises.

"There is no nothing," he iterated, and leaned his head back down to meet hers. "What's perched upon that tack of yours?"

"It feels like I've known you forever," Roxanne admitted, face growing slowly redder. "But…" She didn't finish, but she didn't have to.

"Well, there's that Red String of Fate theory," Mace mused. "Multiple planes of exist-ence, the Multiverse, premonitory sensations, chronic dégà-vu, chem-est-tree. Or maybe you're just insane."

"Are you insane, too?"

"The insanenest."

Mace pulled her closer, planting another kiss, this time on her lips, and holding her in his arms as close as he could in this position. And it was a funny thing, really, serving to make him certain he was either completely sane or worthy of being institutionalized, because, of all the things for her to be, she was a perfect fit.

***Break***

Isst leaned against the doorframe, a melancholy smile planted on her face as she stared in at her daughter, sleeping soundly in Mace's arms, Mace being peacefully at rest himself. From this angle, Isst had to turn her head to see them, but sure enough, there were Gilda and Minion, snoozing in their bowls, their fingers loosely entwined. The melancholy smile widened just slightly, and she turned as robotic footsteps crept toward her. She expected Civ, but received Rit.

Isst turned quickly back to the scene of peace, wanting to forget today's scene of destruction. The kitchenware had been expensive, but would be easily replaced. The pieces still littered floor and carpet alike, and they'd have to walk lightly these next few days to avoid discovering them through the aid of the body's communication and transportation systems, but that wasn't what hurt (or would hurt) most. No, what hurt was the transportation system's close friend and ally, which regulated, controlled, and listened to the transport system with near-perfect accuracy. In simpler terms, it was the heart, not the blood, that would stain today in all their memories in a wash of piercing, colorless, bloodless pain.

"If you're going to tell Loral, then just go and get it over with," Isst commanded, but Rit only came closer, stopping at her side to peer silently into the room with her. His red face was emotionless, but for perhaps the tiny twinkle of his own melancholy showing in the gold-tinted brown of his eyes.

They were silent for a very long time, their thoughts their own, both here and elsewhere, traveling down their own roads and waiting for the time when it seemed natural for them to converge. Isst was the first to reach this intersection and, not looking up, asked,

"We didn't make any mistakes, did we, Rit?"

"No, Mistress," Rit replied.

"Then how can we expect them to?" Isst demanded. There was a long pause before Rit answered.

"You can't." Rit waited for a reply, expecting it, but when none came, he went on. "Mistress, I'm not trying to defend Sir, but you know how he grew up."

"Yes," Isst snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "I _know_ how he grew up—it's how we _all_ grew up, isn't it? And I know his family had a perfectly good reason to distrust Cryptonians after what they did, but I would have thought he'd have grown out of those prejudices by now, especially against his _own daughter,_ who isn't even Cryptonian!" Another long pause.

"But she looks it."

"It doesn't _matter_ how she looks!" Isst hissed. "She _isn't,_ and never has been! She's not even as strong as _we _are, let lone _them._ She so…Cerulean!"

"He can't help how he was raised, Mistress," Rit returned sagely, then added, "none of us can." He was gone soon after, and Isst continued to stand in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of the teenagers' chests and noticing, with a small tug at her heartstrings, that they were in sync.

But the night wore on, and Isst supposed she should call Mace's parents—he had a bad habit of forgetting this. Isst could still remember a time when the boy had been ten and had been out past midnight without alerting anyone to where he would be. Nearly everyone in the surrounding area had been out looking for him, and when they'd found him he's been curled up around his minion's portable sphere, some gadget or another clutched in one hand, sleeping in a hollowed-out log.

So, with a sigh, Isst shut the door as softly as she could and ventured downstairs to find her com. chip. She pressed the small button and said, "the Mind household." There was a short pause before Mendje appeared, projected on the nearest wall.

"Isst?" Mendje asked. She looked worried, but smiled all the same. "How are you?"

"Ollo, Mendje," Isst greet. "I'm fine. And you?"

"Much the same. It's awfully late to be calling, don't you think?"

"Perhaps, but I'd rather not wait for morning. I just wanted to call and inform you that Mace will be staying the night."

"Is that…appropriate?" Mendje looked a little frightful, but Isst smiled brightly and shook her head.

"They fell asleep talking and I haven't the heart to wake either one, regardless of appropriation."

"So they enjoyed themselves?" Mendje asked, allowing herself to relax.

"I'd like to think so," Isst replied. "It shames me to admit that I didn't even hear them come home—they must have entered through the window. Well, I'll let you be, Mendje. Be well."

"And you as well, Isst."

"And Mendje?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if word never reached Loral." Mendje nodded sympathetically.

"Of course, Isst. May glass turn to sand beneath your feet." Then the image was gone, and Isst turned to make her way back upstairs in the dark. She paused on the first step and cursed.

Her feet were not alchemists.


End file.
